


Winter Winds and Snowmelt

by Damatris



Series: A song you know's begun [6]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Canon-Typical Violence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Dissociation, Domestic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, First Time, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Uses His Words, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Kaer Morhen, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Non-Consensual Touching, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Psychological Trauma, Realistic trauma recovery, Slow Burn, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Touch Aversion, Touch-Starved, Trauma, Trauma Recovery, When things are soft things are Very Soft and Tender, Winter At Kaer Morhen, involuntary distorted eating due to depression, past implied threat of rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:33:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 96,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27211990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damatris/pseuds/Damatris
Summary: Jaskier wasn't exactly sure what he had expected Kaer Morhen to be like but the keep was everything and nothing like it. The place was a dichotomy. Magnificent and sad in equal measures in its derelict state. Silent but full of noise. Cold yet filled with warmth.But most importantly, it was Geralt's home. Seeing him so relaxed, the sharpest edges rounded down with the knowledge of being safe and surrounded by his family was a beautiful sight to behold.Jaskier wished he too would relearn what safety felt like.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: A song you know's begun [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660609
Comments: 466
Kudos: 372





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct sequel to the previous story but I think things will get well explained during this story too.  
> Biggest three things to know are: Jaskier has severe ptsd and touch aversion, Geralt has gotten way better at using his words, they're in an established relationship.
> 
> Here's an Extremely, Super, condensed summary without hows or B-plots of Biting Snake Isn't Better Than Knife In Your Back. So SPOILERS: 
> 
> Jaskier gets invited to perform at King Marden's feast and Geralt tags along. Marden has a creepy obsession with Jaskier and uses Geralt as blackmail material to keep Jaskier from fighting. The king keeps touching Jaskier (technically not sexually but that's where things were heading.), forces Jask to bathe in front of him and washes his hair, later also dress in front of him, beats Jask for having scars on his back. Geralt gets them out. Jask tries to live in denial but ptsd symptoms keep getting worse. Jask wants to bathe in a river but forgets to say it and Geralt mistakes it for an suicide attempt. Jask faces the facts. Co-dependency issues crop up. Boys end up staying at an inn and befriend the innkeeper & family who are huge help. Boys get together. Heading to Oxenfurt they're attacked by wargs forcing Geralt to rip jask's clothes to check for wounds and use axii to soothe him out of flashback. After visiting Oxenfurt they head toward Kaer Morhen.

It was far too early to get up after falling asleep few hours before sunrise only to keep constantly startling awake, Jaskier decided as he refused to open his eyes. The traitorous sky was even letting the sun shine after days of overcast weather, disturbing his slumber. Probably just to spite him.

"I know you're awake," Geralt's voice interrupted his internal rueing, holding up the tent's flap letting the cursed sunlight in.

"...'m not," Jaskier mumbled, pulling his blanket up to his ears.

"Get up. I want to eat breakfast," Geralt huffed good-naturedly at his reaction.

"...Do it alone," Jaskier muttered, not moving an inch.

"No."

Jaskier hadn't actually expected anything else. Geralt was far too adamant in his quest to make sure he ate to accept a refusal. Besides, he knew Geralt enjoyed the company despite how the Witcher would deny it if asked.

With a drawn out sigh Jaskier got up and walked to the campfire where Geralt had returned to.

"You'll need your hands," Geralt said, starting to make porridge.

"Not yet," Jaskier countered and clutched the thick blanket around his shoulders tighter.

"Hmmm."

Once the oatmeal was simmering Geralt focused on Jaskier properly. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay. Feels like a neutral day," Jaskier shrugged. "Can't really count the restless night since that's the norm."

Being okay, his version of okay, was such a luxury. Feeling down and tired was far preferred compared to the constant heart pounding anxiety that spiked even more at any sudden noise or movement. Compared to depression that made even opening his eyes a chore. Compared to the way he couldn't stop the memories of king Marden washing his hair and watching him get dressed or the phantom sensations of each hit and deceivingly innocent touch. Compared to the image of Geralt getting stabbed. Compared to the circling thoughts of what ifs and should haves.

Neutral days were lovely respites.

Something to hold on to despite the way it wouldn't take much to tip them into the territory of bad ones.

"That's good," Geralt nodded, looking pleased.

Talking of good things… "Geralt, may I bestow you with a good morning's kiss?"

"Yes," Geralt said with a smile in his eyes and placed his hand in Jaskier's outstretched one.

It was only a lingering kiss against knuckles but it also was more than Jaskier could do on many mornings. As he looked at Geralt while doing so, he saw the smile make its way to the Witcher's lips.

Jaskier was absolutely sure that rare soft and loving look on Geralt's face was among his very favorite sights in the world.

"You're supposed to eat that," Geralt huffed after handing Jaskier a bowl of oatmeal topped with nuts and dried berries and watching him only wrap his fingers against it instead of doing anything else.

"Obviously," Jaskier said, bending over the bowl to have the gentle steam warm the tip of his nose.

"Were you too cold to sleep?" Geralt asked, a frown forming.

"Not really. A bit chilly but mostly it was just the usual problem of shutting down my thoughts." Jaskier shrugged, finally taking hold of the spoon.

He didn't feel particularly hungry.

"Hmmm," there was a displeased look on Geralt's face. "Are you still comfortable with staying at an inn once we reach the village?"

"Yep. Sleeping on something warm and relatively soft sounds lovely. And I get to perform too, we could use the money since it's the last place to restock before reaching the mountains, right?" Jaskier agreed, annoyed that the porridge felt and tasted like sawdust in his mouth.

One of those kinds of days then.

Not wanting to worry Geralt, he kept eating slow spoonfuls and focusing on not choking on the unpleasant texture. Thankfully Geralt didn't comment on how long it took to finish, only confirmed his memory.

Leaving Geralt to pack the camp up, Jaskier went to ready Roach for travel. The mare was such a lovely companion: steady, comforting, and mostly non-judgmental. Far behind were the days when Geralt hadn't let him even touch her.

"Good morning, fair lady," Jaskier greeted the mare, giving her a hug and started to brush her coat after sneaking her a treat. The repetitive motion and the warmth of Roach were calming.

Grounding.

It truly was incredibly kind of Geralt to have relinquished caring for Roach to him. Not completely, not by a long shot, but a fair share of it. Jaskier knew perfectly well how much trust Geralt was showing him by doing so. And had absolutely no plans to let him down. Not to mention that he simply adored Roach. She was such a wonderful and brave sweetheart, the best horse he ever had met. There was so much to be grateful for her.

"Did you finish brushing her?" Geralt asked, startling Jaskier out of his thoughts. He hadn't noticed the Witcher coming over.

"Jeez, don't sneak up to me!" Jaskier exclaimed, pressing a hand against his suddenly racing heart. "But yes, yes I did."

"Clean her hooves," Geralt said, glancing at Jaskier to make sure he was calming down before picking up the saddle.

It didn't take long before Jaskier was sitting on the mare, arranging his cloak to protect himself better against the chilly air. It probably wouldn't take long before days got cold enough for snow to permanently stick around. Jaskier was rather sure they wouldn't reach Kaer Morhen before it'd happen, not with the way he had been -was- slowing them down. Geralt might not have complained about it, had been the one making sure they didn't even try to travel as fast as normally, but Jaskier couldn't shut out the niggling guilt of it. The detour to Oxenfurt had taken so much time on top of everything else.

The closer to the village they got, the more nervous Jaskier felt. It truly was frustrating, being still so terribly wary and afraid of people after all this time. He should be done and over with it, no matter what Geralt kept telling him. Granted, staying on the move without a chance to get used to new places and people before leaving might not be the best way to conquer it. Not to mention the way settlements had kept getting fewer the farther north they traveled.

Hard to get used to people when there's no one around.

Geralt really had had a good point about staying so long and frequently at inns right after the disastrous feast that had made his world crumble down and shatter into pieces. Shaking his head Jaskier tried to dislodge the negative thoughts and focus on the here and now.

It didn't work as well as he hoped.

"I was thinking of trying to strike a deal with the innkeeper for a free room," Jaskier informed Geralt, looking at the Witcher walking next to him and Roach.

Sometimes trading a performance for a night worked beautifully, with even meals for both included. Sometimes it got him part of that and other times there was no agreement at all to be found. Hopefully this innkeeper would be an amicable one.

"Hmmm."

Geralt was such a chatty companion.

Not that Jaskier faulted him for it.

"Will you stay with me?" he had to ask despite knowing the answer.

"Of course I will," Geralt promised seriously, looking him in the eye.

"Thank you." it felt like some of the weight pulling Jaskier down had been lifted from his shoulders with Geralt's words.

The weight returned the moment the village's lights came within sight in the rapidly darkening evening.

"Jaskier, we won't attract any trouble here," Geralt said matter of fact once they had made Roach as comfortable as they could in the inn's stable, probably noticing Jaskier's increasing nervousness. "The villagers are used to Witchers passing through and stocking up, even counting on it most likely. We'll be left in peace."

"Oh. That's a relief." Jaskier blinked, surprised.

Honestly, that was rather logical considering this was the closest place to get supplies when residing in Kaer Morhen. Only a fool would refuse to take the money or outright antagonize Witchers when they were neighbors in a sense. Not that it had stopped immense bloodshed in the past but apparently people of this particular village had learned at least something from history. Or had just gotten greedier.

It still was nice to know in advance that Geralt wouldn't have to deal with overt hostility and prejudice, probably just hidden. Fuckers.

Nice to also know people wouldn't dare to try to do something to him as long as he made it clear that he was with Geralt.

Entering the inn didn't feel as daunting as a minute ago.

Jaskier still would have liked it very much if everyone hadn't turned to stare at them when they stepped in. Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders Jaskier headed to the counter, doing his best to mask the way a faint tremor was building in his hands.

Fucking anxiety.

There was no reason to be afraid.

It was safe.

He was safe.

His nerves weren't accepting it.

"Good evening. Might I trade my skills in music for a night and meals for us?" Jaskier asked the woman behind the bar, letting her get a glimpse of his lute case and focusing on keeping his voice steady. Doing so was terribly difficult even though he didn't look away even for a second nor did he partly present his back for more than a second.

There was a mix of wariness and interest on her face as she answered. "Night yes but I'd rather you paid for the food."

It had been worth a shot.

"Deal," Jaskier agreed immediately, wanting the transaction to simply be over so he could leave.

"We'll also pay the stabling fee for a horse," he added, placing the appropriate sum on the counter.

Without a word or pause Geralt reached out to take the offered keys, making sure Jaskier didn't have to worry about being accidentally touched.

Jaskier truly didn't know what he had done to deserve Geralt.

The room they had been given was small and sparse, definitely amongst the cheapest the inn offered. Which was how it usually went without handing over some coins to secure a better one. Not that it really mattered aside from the fact that once again Geralt wouldn't get to sleep in a bed with the way there was only one. Jaskier had long ago accepted that the Witcher couldn't be persuaded to take the bed. Not that it stopped him from regularly trying, spurred by the guilt of denying Geralt the small luxury. Everything would be so much easier if he just could handle being almost constantly touched for the whole night.

Or even share a bed in the first place.

But the mere thought was enough to make a cold shiver of fear run down Jaskier's spine.

After placing the saddlebags and lute case down Jaskier headed to sit on the bed and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths trying to center himself.

His hands were still trembling.

"Are you alright?" Geralt asked, taking a step toward Jaskier.

"Yeah. Yeah, I just need a minute," Jaskier nodded, anxiety starting to turn into frustration. He was so sick and tired of the constant fear dragging him down, making even the simplest interactions with strangers hard.

"Hmmm."

"Sit with me? Could I also have a hug?" Jaskier requested, opening his arms.

It seemed to be all the encouragement Geralt needed.

Everything felt better after the embrace. He'd never get tired of them, of the love they represented.

"I guess I'm not going to make much profit tonight. There weren't many patrons downstairs," Jaskier started, wanting something else to focus on than his issues before the hug's effect would wear off. "But whatever I happen to make on top of my current budget I'll spend on provisions to take with us to Kaer Morhen. I really don't want to be only a drain on resources. It's not like anyone else is expecting another mouth to feed."

"With your eating habits no one will even notice you're partaking in meals," Geralt scoffed before continuing in a friendlier tone. Although, it did turn strained on the last word. "Jaskier, you're not a burden or a drain on resources. You'll be a guest. You're my …partner.

_Oh._

That was the first time Geralt had referred to him like that.

"Geralt…" Jaskier whispered, wide eyed and heart fluttering. "I love you."

"Shut up, bard," Geralt snapped reflexively, looking embarrassed.

Jaskier couldn't completely smother the twinge of discomfort of going against Geralt's order despite knowing perfectly well there was no intent behind it. "No. I love you and you are going to suffer the mortification of hearing me repeat it time after time."

"I love you with everything I am, Geralt of Rivia, love of my life," Jaskier added for good measure, enjoying the choked sound Geralt made at the endearment.

It was so adorable how he still hadn't gotten used to hearing the sweet words.

"Dinner," Geralt stated, practically jumping up to escape the moment.

"After you," Jaskier said, grabbing his lute and gesturing Geralt to exit the room.

Jaskier stopped at the foot of the staircase, his legs freezing up as he noticed the inn's tavern had filled out considerably more during the time they had spent in their room. Apparently some of the patrons had gone to inform others of the extremely rare occurrence of a professional bard visiting and the oncoming entertainment that would follow.

Jaskier knew he should be thrilled.

It made the growing dread feel even worse.

Honestly, what kind of a bard was scared of attention?

"Stop thinking stupid things," Geralt huffed, drawing Jaskier back to present. "I can practically hear you."

"Mmhmm." Jaskier wanted to protest that his thoughts were perfectly valid but the small hum was all he was able to get out.

It caused a frown form on Geralt's brow and lips thin in displeasure.

"Let's just order," Jaskier said quietly, waiting for Geralt to stop staring at him and head toward the counter before starting to walk again.

Jaskier knew it had been only a few words exchanged with the innkeeper to secure them dinner but he felt like he had interacted with her for hours. He was tired enough for minutes to stretch into eons and speaking to take effort. He wasn't looking forward to the utter exhaustion that would surely hit him after the performance. Not that there was anything to do about it. He was going to sing anyway. Do his job and earn their upkeep.

Food still had the flavor and texture of sawdust.

It was only due to Geralt's pointed looks that he managed to finish most of his portion.

There were no excuses to delay the performance any further so Jaskier got up with a sigh, grabbing both his lute and people's attention.

"Wish me luck," Jaskier whispered before taking a few steps away from their table. He wanted to retreat back to the safety of Geralt's immediate vicinity the very second he stopped.

Strumming his lute once Jaskier started his customary introduction before the show. "Good evening, everyone. I'm Jaskier the bard, here to delight you with stories of great valor and ballads of sweet love. I do hope you'll enjoy the special occasion to hear these songs since this is the one and only night I'm staying at this esteemed inn."

Jaskier hoped no one else than Geralt noticed the slight tremble in his voice. It was still so damn difficult to keep his composure when being the center of attention.

But he was a professional.

And that meant anxiety could fuck off and let him do his work.

Despite it actually not being as simple as that.

His fingers felt wooden against the strings and his voice was hollow. People were cheering and singing along the well-known tavern songs that were older than the mountains and lowering their voices when he sang his original pieces. Jaskier wondered if he was doing well enough to fulfill his part of the deal or if the innkeeper would request them to pay after all. The tavern was full of laughter and conversations.

He honestly wasn't sure.

It was a relief when he finally let the last chord echo out and finished the performance with a bow and another speech, prompting the audience to show their appreciation with coin.

"That was that," Jaskier muttered to Geralt as he sat back down and watched as some of the listeners headed toward them. Him.

"Hmmm," Geralt hummed, keenly studying those who approached.

It was relieving to know he wouldn't let anyone touch him or propose _alternative_ ways to spend the night. Would do his very best to keep him safe. And that Geralt had found the thin line of looking stern enough to keep people from trying but not scaring everyone from coming over to pay.

Jaskier wasn't completely sure what he said to the people trying to engage him in small talk but he guessed it was empty stock phrases of thanks. Everything was starting to get clouded with bone deep exhaustion.

"Time to go," Geralt said, drawing Jaskier's attention.

"Oh. Yes. Let's," Jaskier agreed quietly before raising his voice to bid good night to the tavern patrons as they left.

It was wonderful to step into the sanctuary of their room. No stranger would come up to him, no one would demand anything from him. No reason to act like nothing was wrong, no reason to pretend.

After placing his lute back to its case Jaskier walked to the window and pressed his forehead against the cold glass. "Thank you. For staying with me. Again."

He knew his sentences were choppy.

It felt like he was out of words.

"You're welcome," Geralt said, starting to prepare his bedroll for the night. "Are you alright?"

Such a familiar question.

"Think so. Just exhausted," Jaskier mumbled, pushing himself away from the window with a sigh. "Been a long day."

"Hmmm."

"Mind stepping out for a minute so I can change?" Jaskier asked as he retrieved suitable clothes for the night.

Yesterday really had been a long day for Jaskier, Geralt thought as he watched the bard try to shake off the lingering effects of the sleeping potion he had taken to ensure a peaceful night. Jaskier's stamina might have improved some during traveling but the bard still was nowhere close to healthy as the frequent headaches, appetite swinging wildly back and forth, and general fatigue among everything else indicated.

The climb to Kaer Morhen would be fucking hard on Jaskier.

"You don't have to kill your sausages. They've been dead for a long time," Jaskier said, watching Geralt violently cut his breakfast.

"Hnn."

"Seriously, what's bugging you, Geralt?" Jaskier asked, looking concerned.

"Nothing," Geralt huffed and stabbed his fork through one of the pieces he had cut.

"That's a lie and not even a good one," Jaskier accused.

Geralt gave another frustrated huff before answering. "The climb. Some parts are very steep, it'll be safer for you to cross them on foot."

"That's all?" Jaskier blinked, appearing bemused. "Geralt, I do have legs to walk with. Sure, it'll be slow and strenuous but it's fine. Right?"

"Of course it's fine to go slow," Geralt said immediately, not wanting Jaskier to start apologizing for it. He'd definitely be hearing that more than enough soon.

"Then I don't see the problem," Jaskier declared and pushed his plate slightly away. "Shall we go get our things and Roach?"

"Once you've finished," Geralt stated, shooting a pointed look at the unfinished breakfast.

"Geralt-" Jaskier started only to be interrupted.

"No. We're not moving until you've eaten."

It took a good while.

At least buying as much extra food as Roach could carry with Jaskier riding her ended up being a simple affair.

It was nice something was simple for once.

"Ready?" Geralt checked as Jaskier carefully mounted the mare. Letting him ride Roach had stopped feeling strange months ago. Not to mention they'd probably still be only halfway through the journey if Jaskier was the one walking.

"Let's do this," Jaskier said resolutely, looking at the nearby mountain range.

The bard would need that determination. It had to be crossed to get to the valley.

"Let's," Geralt agreed, setting out toward the mountains.

There was a unique peace in walking up the overgrown and familiar trail. Even having to stay vigilant against the dangers of the forest around them couldn't smother it completely. He knew the path, he knew where it'd lead.

Safety.

Home.

Family.

That's what Kaer Morhen stood for.

Geralt was sure most humans would be shocked to hear a Witcher could have such things. It wouldn't fit the mold, the concept of uncaring monsters living only to hunt other monsters.

"Jaskier?" Geralt asked, realizing he hadn't heard the bard say a word for over an hour.

Only silence answered him.

"Jaskier," Geralt said forcefully, hoping it'd be enough to catch Jaskier's attention.

"Huh?"

Good.

"You with me?"

"Yeah, I simply got lost in thoughts," Jaskier agreed, looking at Geralt. "Just regular daydreaming, nothing else."

"Hmmm. Want to share?" it'd probably be best to keep Jaskier talking. Try to make it harder for him to become unresponsive. It hadn't happened for a while but all his symptoms seemed to worsen the more tired Jaskier was. And the long days of riding definitely made him so.

"No."

Geralt took a deep breath and smothered the flash of irritation.

"Talk about something else then," Geralt said, paying attention to keeping his tone even.

"Making sure I don't forget I have a body and drift away?" Jaskier huffed.

No reason to lie. "Yes."

"I'm fine," Jaskier protested with an irked expression. "You don't have to worry about it, I'm perfectly aware of myself and what's going on around."

"What's wrong then?" Geralt grumbled, mirroring Jaskier's mood. It was fucking annoying when Jaskier refused to tell him.

"...Nothing," Jaskier muttered, averting his eyes.

"Out with it," Geralt ordered, knowing Jaskier's resolve was cracking.

"It's just… I'm tired, can't see much since the sun is setting, and it's getting colder," Jaskier sighed wearily. "None of which you can affect. We need to keep going, don't we? Like you said yourself, it's not safe in these woods and the cave you told about is still quite far."

"For fuck's sake, Jaskier. There's blankets, you can just wrap one around yourself," Geralt said exasperated. "Use your brain. And we can take a break."

"If I get off Roach, I'm not sure I can get on again. More likely I'll get hit by a wave of exhaustion and fall asleep right there and then. It's not like you can just start carrying me," Jaskier objected, looking self-conscious. "You wouldn't, right?"

"No, not if you don't give permission," Geralt confirmed seriously. "You know I won't touch you unless you say it's fine, don't you?"

"Mmhmm."

"Unless it's an emergency," Geralt amended, seeing Jaskier stare at him with a shuttered expression.

He really needed to remember not to generalize too much. It had been proved too many times he'd break the promise to touch Jaskier only after getting explicit consent if the situation was dire enough. It had been fucking shitty, having done so despite the panic attacks and flashbacks it drove Jaskier to experience.

But what had happened, had happened.

Hopefully it wouldn't ever again.

Geralt couldn't find it in himself to be that optimistic.

Jaskier answered with another hum but at least it was accompanied with a nod this time. Maybe it was one of those days when Jaskier couldn't bring himself to believe having a say in what would happen to him. Would explain the unwillingness to tell what was wrong too.

"Fine, we'll keep going," Geralt stated, not wanting to dismiss Jaskier's choice. Besides, they did need to reach that cave to make camp.

Looking at the sacks and bags Roach was carrying, Geralt decided it'd be too much hassle to unload them enough to get to the blankets. Instead he took his cloak off and presented it to Jaskier. "Here."

"What? Geralt, no. I can't take that," Jaskier exclaimed aghast.

"You're cold," Geralt said, tossing the cloak to drape over Roach's neck.

"Doesn't mean you have to be," Jaskier huffed, breath visible in the air.

It really was getting colder. There would be frost on the ground come morning.

"I won't be," Geralt said, crossing his arms. "You know I'm far more resistant than you."

"Geralt…" Jaskier trailed off, taking hold of the cloak.

"Use it."

Jaskier complied without further protests, either too cold or too tired to keep going. Or both. Geralt hoped it was just because the bard saw the logic.

"It'll be a couple more hours. Can you hang on that long?" Geralt asked bluntly once they had walked for a while. "We can camp here in the forest if needed. I mean it."

"...Yeah, I'm fine" Jaskier agreed hesitantly. "Besides, Roach is the one doing all the work. I'll just… keep sitting here."

Not how riding worked.

"Hmmm."

It didn't take very long until Geralt was regretting the decision to continue on but by now they were too close to the cave for it to make sense to stop. Didn't mean he didn't want to do so as he kept an eye on drooping Jaskier. It looked like he was staying upright by sheer determination and clutching the saddle.

Each new landmark they passed felt almost like a gift to Geralt.

"Still awake?" Geralt asked Jaskier, stopping in front of the cave opening. About time too.

"...Mmhmm," Jaskier mumbled, apparently not having registered yet that they had reached the destination.

"Great. Dismount and go into the cave. You can rest now. I'll take care of everything," Geralt said, watching Jaskier slowly return to awareness from the half-sleep he had slipped into.

The bard walked like a drunk newborn foal.

But he did manage not to trip so Geralt counted it as a win.

Unloading Roach quickly Geralt grabbed Jaskier's bedding and the weighted blanket. It should work as a pallet, insulate against the freezing bare rock. Might feel softer than the rock too despite the texture of the thin layer of grain the blanket had inside. Or maybe it'd be worse. Not freezing was the more important thing.

"Get in," Geralt said, pointing at the bedroll.

Jaskier mumbled something indistinguishable but didn't react otherwise, just kept leaning against the rock wall, eyes closed and breaths heavy.

"Jaskier, it's literally two feets away from you," Geralt huffed.

This time the bard did move. Flopping onto the bedroll.

" _In_ ," Geralt stressed, unamused.

With a heart-felt groan Jaskier complied. And gave a satisfied sigh once he had tucked himself in.

Now the bard wouldn't fall asleep and freeze to death. Pleased, Geralt returned to Roach, carrying their luggage inside the cave before readying the mare for the night. It was only after Geralt had taken care of all the chores and their dinner had finished cooking that he turned to Jaskier. The deep steady breathing had told him everything he needed to know.

"Wake up. Time to eat," Geralt said, wanting to poke Jaskier when he didn't immediately open his eyes.

After a few more tries Jaskier finally reacted. "...Nooo… Sleep time."

"Dinner time," Geralt countered, fighting against a smile. Jaskier had no right to look as cute as he did currently, trying to burrow deeper into his bedroll and blanket. "Get up, bard."

"Hnrrghhhg." At least Jaskier did sit up despite the grumbling, rubbing hands over his face in an attempt to wake himself up.

"How are you feeling?" Geralt asked seriously, watching Jaskier blink dazedly at his plate.

"...Exhausted. Not good," Jaskier mumbled, finally eating the first bite. "Tired."

"Anything I can do?" Geralt inquired with a frown.

"Let me lean on you…?" Jaskier requested quietly, sounding like he was expecting a refusal.

"Gladly." It was the truth.

"Thank you."

Geralt was sure he was the only thing holding Jaskier up once the bard settled against him. There were shudders running through him.

"Jaskier, are you still cold?" Geralt said, frown deepening.

"Not really." Jaskier shook his head. Clearly understanding the reason for the question he continued. "It's just the exhaustion. The usual."

"Hmmm."

It wasn't better but hopefully the night would grant Jaskier sleep uninterrupted by nightmares.

Jaskier woke up gasping for air and tears stinging his eyes. There were phantom hands caressing his cheek and running up his torso.

He wasn't safe.

He wasn't safe.

He wasn't sa-

"Jaskier, it was a nightmare. You're safe. Take slow breaths and look around. You're in a cave, on the road to Kaer Morhen. Only me and Roach are here," Geralt's calm voice cut through Jaskier's panicked thoughts. "You're safe."

Breathing was hard.

It was far too familiar.

"Slow breaths, Jaskier. You're safe. Can you tell me what you see around us?"

"...Not- not much to… to list…" Jaskier managed to force out in between strained breaths, clutching his bead necklace in a death grip.

"Right. Focus on breathing slowly. In and out. You're safe," it really was incredible how patient Geralt was coaxing him out of panic attacks. There wasn't even a note of frustration in his tone.

Thankfully it didn't take long for the attack to calm down this time. Wiping stray tears away Jaskier turned to look at Geralt properly. "What time is it?"

Just because the sun wasn't up yet didn't mean it was still night.

"Morning. Do you want to go back to sleep? It's early." There was no judgment in Geralt's voice.

Jaskier did. Very much so.

"No. Better to get going then," Jaskier yawned, unable to hold it in. "Another long day ahead of us."

"We really don't need to leave yet," Geralt said, studying him.

Jaskier was quite sure he was found lacking.

"I know but it'd be nice," Jaskier said, wanting to be done with the conversation. If having an early start meant being less of a deadweight, he was perfectly happy with moving on despite too little sleep. Besides, he was used to that.

"Hmmm."

Before Geralt made any more comments Jaskier got up and started to roll up his bedding to make clear he really meant his words. Can't sleep longer if there's nowhere to sleep. Predictably Geralt did give a displeased huff at the action but at least he went to bring them breakfast instead of protesting.

It still tasted like ash.

"Geralt, could I have a hug?" Jaskier requested once his hands were free again.

Geralt immediately opened his arms in invitation. "Of course."

Jaskier swore the hug made him feel warmer than the fire and all the blankets in the world. Pressing himself against the hard armor and staying there didn't make it any less so. He was safely encircled by Geralt's arms and that was all that mattered.

"Are you sure about continuing?" Geralt asked, still holding him lightly.

"Yes, Geralt," Jaskier said exasperated. "This way we'll also get to use all the daylight hours."

At Geralt's agreeing nod Jaskier broke the hug and headed to check on Roach, taking feed and more water for her with him.

"Morning, girl. Here's your breakfast," he greeted, setting it up and starting to brush her.

Roach was too invested in her food to greet him back.

"Thanks for yesterday. And sorry in advance for today. I know you're working so very hard to carry both me and all the cargo," Jaskier quietly spoke to her, not wanting to disturb anything that might be lurking in the darkness. "Just a couple more days and you get to have your winter holiday. I bet you're looking forward to it."

At that Roach stopped eating. And lifted her head up to bump it against Geralt's chest as the Witcher came over. Oh well, it wasn't as if Jaskier didn't know Geralt was and would always be her favorite regardless of how much she liked him

"Morning to you too, Roach," Geralt said, scratching her forehead. "Ready for the day?"

Roach only huffed and tried to gently nibble at Geralt's hair so Jaskier decided to talk for her. "She's all taken care of and ready for her tack."

In response Geralt started saddling her.

It was time to continue on.

Geralt might have had a point about being concerned about the climb, Jaskier reluctantly granted. The barely there path they were following was steep and his calves were already burning as he walked, riding this part too dangerous. They hadn't even been climbing for that long and they already had taken several tiny breaks, just long enough to let him catch his breath. As much as Jaskier would love to take a long one, it wasn't a good idea. The moment he'd cool down, he'd start freezing in his sweaty clothes and he didn't have enough clothes to keep changing all the time.

Nothing else to do about it than keep walking. He could swear Geralt was constantly gearing up to grab him at the first stumble.

It was making Jaskier's skin crawl.

Didn't help with getting enough air into his lungs.

But he couldn't blame Geralt for his worry. The footing was treacherous and the frost that had formed during the night wasn't melting away. Jaskier agreed with Geralt that he'd rather be touched without permission than fall into his death. Both prospects were scary but one at least wouldn't result in a permanent state.

He'd just have not to trip and everything would be fine.

And possibly also stop thinking about falling into a ravine.

"Everything alright?" Geralt asked casually, definitely noticing how he was slowing down again.

"Yeah. Yeah," Jaskier panted, giving in and stopping to catch his breath. "The same. Sorry for going so slow."

Geralt's face was annoyingly expressionless, not showing the frustration he had to be feeling about the tortuously slow pace.

"Here," Geralt said, grabbing a handful of nuts and dried berries from the pouch he had started carrying weeks ago.

It was ridiculous. Geralt was ridiculous. Jaskier wished he could kiss the ridiculous man. But his skin was still crawling at the thought of being touched so instead he took the offered snack without a complaint.

"You're ridiculous." That didn't count as one.

"Hnn." Geralt looked completely unimpressed by the declaration.

"You are," Jaskier repeated. "And I love you for it."

"If you can run your mouth, you can start walking again," Geralt said, crossing his arms and looking away lips twitching.

"I can do both."

A lie. Jaskier was perfectly aware he wouldn't have enough air to do so but it was the sentiment that counted. Honestly, he looked like a dragon with the way his huffing and puffing created white clouds in the sub-zero air. But each step took them closer to the place where the trail would widen up again. The place where they'd finally be able to take a longer break before continuing on.

One foot in front of the other and they'd eventually arrive there. Step by step. He could do that.

Take a step.

And then another.

And another.

"We're here."

Jaskier could have cried in relief.

"Thank gods! Those are the-" he had to cut the sentence short to gulp down air. "-the sweetest words you've said since-" another huffing breath. "-the first time you told me that you love me."

Geralt just gave a small amused sound and started to unload Roach to let her rest.

Jaskier would have dearly loved to slump to the ground right where he was but he knew he wouldn't be able to get up right away once he did so. And he wasn't keen on turning into a human icicle.

Retrieving clothes from his saddlebag, Jaskier realized he had a small -huge- problem.

"...Geralt… There's… There's nowhere I can change my shirt out of sight," Jaskier whispered, unable to speak louder or keep the rising anxiety away from his tone.

"Fuck," Geralt cursed, looking around the wide ledge in vain. There weren't any bends around, let alone anything else.

"I'll just keep wearing what I have on," Jaskier decided, already feeling the cold making its way through his sweaty clothes.

"You'll freeze," Geralt stated, still surveying the area.

"I can't undress where you can see me. I know you wouldn't turn around and look but I can't," Jaskier said, voice desperate and starting to shake with what most definitely wasn't cold. _"I can't."_

"I know. Jaskier, I know," Geralt agreed, sounding preoccupied. It was only a few seconds later that he continued. "Roach. We could hang our cloaks from her tack, form a folding screen of sorts. Do you think that would work?"

"...Maybe," Jaskier didn't have any better ideas. "I can- I can try."

"That's all you have to do. If it doesn't work, we'll think something else," Geralt said seriously.

He was far too understanding.

Roach wasn't high enough to block Jaskier completely from sight but it didn't really matter since he simply kneeled down to start removing his outer wool shirt. That would be fine to put back on but the shirt underneath it had to be changed with the way he had sweat through it.

Jaskier truly rued the past-him for not having bought winter clothes suitable for heavy exercise despite never having had a reason to. There was only so much he could remove for the climb despite the heat he ended up generating. Shirt changed, he added one more extra layer and his cloak to keep himself warm while resting.

"Thanks," Jaskier said, returning Geralt's cloak. "That helped, a lot.

Despite the way his anxiety wasn't going down.

"Hmmm," Geralt probably could hear it from his heartbeat. Or smell it. In any case the Witcher wasn't commenting on it.

It was just as nice as finally getting to rest for a while, sitting next to Geralt and sharing the space without touching.

Just being together was lovely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene has been set, let the adventure begin...!
> 
> I'M SO EXCITED TO CONTINUE THIS VERSE! If at any point you think I've missed a tag or something just let me know and I'll correct it!
> 
> I've also learned my lesson and will not even guess at the chapter count. :''''D But many words will come. Also, I don't know what sort of black magic I used with Biting Snake to keep up that update schedule... I'll update this once a week.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning came along with dim and overcast skies. The frost still hadn't melted away. Probably wouldn't before the spring but at least it gave some extra light, reflecting the meager amount escaping behind the clouds.

With heavy legs and a heavier heart Jaskier walked over to the small fire where Geralt was making breakfast. He felt so terribly guilty about not having been able to share the tent, forcing Geralt to sleep outside in the cold. He hadn't even had the strength to try to find a compromise, just let Geralt declare that was their sleeping arrangement for the night.

"Morning. How do you feel?" Geralt greeted Jaskier, studying him keenly.

"Like the weather," Jaskier mumbled, taking a seat next to him.

"Cloudy and cold?" Geralt asked with a frown.

"Something like that." Jaskier shrugged, not particularly interested in the topic.

"Go grab a blanket then. Don't freeze your ass off when you don't have to," Geralt said.

Shaking his head Jaskier sighed, "Not that kind of cold. Just not the best of mornings."

"Hmmm."

Hmmm indeed. There wasn't anything to be done about it.

"Want to hold hands?" Geralt offered, holding out his.

Well. Maybe that.

"...Yes." Jaskier nodded after taking a second to think. It was slightly disappointing he couldn't trace the familiar scars on Geralt's hand with the way they both were wearing gloves. The gesture was warming nonetheless. "Thank you, Geralt."

Geralt simply squeezed Jaskier's hand tighter for a second in response before declaring breakfast to be ready.

It was through sheer stubbornness Jaskier managed to finish his food.

"Are you ready to go? We can rest here for a while longer," Geralt asked, clearly aware of Jaskier's exhaustion.

"We can continue on," Jaskier said resolutely, not wanting to move an inch. "Shouldn't waste the daylight hours."

The sun set early and rose late this far North.

Geralt didn't look pleased by his answer but didn't protest, definitely knowing perfectly well that tarrying would only be detrimental. There were places to be and miles to walk. At least Geralt looked happier when Jaskier stayed put after receiving a glare when he was about to get up and help with packing up the camp.

Finally allowed to move Jaskier beelined to stand in front of Geralt. "A hug?"

"Of course," Geralt said, the harsh lines of his face softening as he gently embraced Jaskier.

The Witcher's armor felt cold against Jaskier's chest.

There wasn't anywhere he'd rather be.

He still wasn't sure just what he had done to deserve the incredible fortune of having his years long unrequited love to be reciprocated. Wasn't sure why Geralt thought he was worthy of his love, his time, his support. But by gods if Jaskier didn't crave it like a starving man dreaming of warm bread.

Every moment, every second, was a precious gift.

It also was only seconds before Jaskier had to step away, too keyed up to stand contact for long. He yearned to spend the day in Geralt's arms in front of a fireplace somewhere warm. Maybe one day it'd come true.

Just not today.

They traveled in silence, Geralt being his usual self and Jaskier too focused on taking each step to even try speaking in between the huffing breaths. Jaskier swore he had found new muscles he hadn't known about and the reason for the discovery was that they ached. The climb was absolutely torturous, steeper than yesterday.

"Stop," Geralt ordered suddenly, making Jaskier halt immediately.

"Something- Something wrong?" Jaskier asked anxiously, trying to spot what had made Geralt stop. He couldn't see anything.

Before he had time to properly panic over it Geralt shook his head. "There's nothing around us. It's just time for a break."

"Oh."

Right, of course Geralt could see he was struggling. Jaskier couldn't smother the flash of shame at the fact that he was slowing them down so much, unable to keep up.

"Here, it'll help you stay warm," Geralt said, handing Jaskier his cloak.

"...Geralt…" Jaskier sighed but did take it. He didn't have energy to spare for any sort of argument, no matter how light and meaningless.

"Jaskier, we're soon done with the climb. It'll get easier once we get to the level parts and start the descend to the valley," Geralt encouraged Jaskier and offered him a waterskin.

"Obviously," Jaskier huffed before drinking greedily.

"Can you hang on for that long?" Geralt asked bluntly.

It was a good question.

"I don't have many options, do I?" Jaskier deadpanned. "Can't stay here and Kaer Morhen is on the other side."

"Hmmm." The worried frown didn't leave Geralt's face.

"Geralt, I'll be fine." Well, maybe not fine. But he'd do it. It was just about putting one foot in front of the other, just like yesterday.

"There's still some climbing left and it'll take a few miles afterwards before it gets safe to ride again," Geralt informed him, taking the cloak and waterskin back before gesturing for Jaskier to start walking again.

Jaskier dearly wished he could curl up on the cold hard ground and not move for a century. He knew staying on the move was the only way for him to manage to finish the climb, knew he wouldn't get up easily if he let himself truly rest. The knowledge didn't make anything easier. Didn't stifle the slight resentment born of utter exhaustion toward Geralt about the situation but he knew it'd disappear the moment he would get to lay down.

Step.

Step.

Step.

An easier step.

Something cold and wet landed on Jaskier's face.

A snowflake.

Great. Just great. Exactly what they needed.

"Jaskier, focus." Geralt's voice cut through Jaskier's hazy thoughts.

"Oh, hi. Yes. What?" Jaskier guessed his reply wasn't particularly confidence inspiring since Geralt's frown only deepened.

"Can you walk for a couple more miles? It'll be downhill but the snowfall will only keep getting thicker," Geralt said, worry coloring his tone.

"No choice," Jaskier mumbled, feeling defeated. They couldn't make camp where they were and weather out the snowfall and if they took a break the visibility would keep worsening until they had to stay put. Plus, he wasn't sure if he could get up again. "I'm so sorry for making this so damn slow and difficult."

"Don't apologize. Jaskier, I could-" Geralt didn't get a chance to finish.

"No. Whatever you're thinking, no. You're not going to carry me or, I don't know, fashion some sort of a weird sled from the tent. No," Jaskier said, sure he wouldn't be listened to. He wouldn't have a say in how they'd travel on. There was no reason for Geralt to take his words in consideration.

"Fine," Geralt grunted, surprising Jaskier. "But we're going to use rope to tie us together in case the visibility drops. I'm not having you walk off the cliff because you can't see the path."

"Oh. That's alright," Jaskier agreed, still feeling off-balance from being listened to.

It was weird.

It shouldn't be but he was too tired to try to think about why. Better to focus on staying on his feet.

There was suddenly a rope offered to him, making Jaskier blink at it in confusion.

"Tie it around yourself," Geralt said, shaking the rope slightly in emphasis.

"Right." That was what they had been talking about.

It was considerate of Geralt to let him leave enough slack between them that he could walk just out of arm reach. Probably for the best to stay close to Geralt but the knowledge that he could escape out of reach helped. The rope felt constricting, burnt him through his clothing. It'd be so terribly easy to yank him around using it.

It was hard to focus on the path. His legs were screaming and the world was turning blurry and white with the snow.

"Jaskier, you're alright. Just a little bit farther. We're almost there," Geralt encouraged him, breaking the muffled silence.

Jaskier didn't feel alright.

Even blinking was hard, his eyelashes trying to stick together due to the melting snow.

"You're doing well, Jaskier. Hang on just a little longer. Then you can get on Roach and we'll make camp as soon as possible," Geralt continued. "We won't move on today after it. And will rest tomorrow if you want."

Geralt was being strangely talkative.

"Answer me."

Oh, that's why.

"Mmhmm."

"Words, Jaskier. I need words."

"...Yeah…" It was a word. Hopefully Geralt could hear him.

"Fuck this. You're going to get on Roach right now," Geralt declared, quickly untying the rope around himself.

"...Dangerous. You said so," Jaskier protested weakly.

"You're minutes away from collapsing. The path starts getting wider and easier soon, Roach will walk carefully, and we're moving slowly. It'll be fine." There was a strained quality in Geralt's voice.

Hopefully he wasn't catching a cold.

"Jaskier, let me help you mount," Geralt finished, beckoning Jaskier.

"...Okay…" The mare looked taller than ever before as Jaskier stared at her.

"Foot in the stirrup and jump," Geralt commanded, linking fingers to create a step. "I'll boost you up."

Jaskier wasn't sure if the movement he made could be called a jump but it was high enough for Geralt to place his hands underneath his sole and push him upward. Jaskier didn't even bother to ask for the reins, just took hold of the pommel and did his best to sit straight.

Even that was difficult.

"Roach will keep you safe," Geralt said. "Jaskier, can I steady you if needed?"

Jaskier despised the idea of being touched, no matter how briefly. "...Okay."

"Only if absolutely necessary," Geralt promised, starting to lead Roach down the path.

Riding was easier than walking. It was getting cold now that he wasn't struggling forward with all his strength. Jaskier gripped the pommel harder and paid attention to each breath.

He wished to get down and rest.

Sleep.

It was cold and he was exhausted beyond belief.

There was suddenly a hand against his leg. Jaskier wanted to scream, wanted to kick whoever was touching him. A terrified whine and a shudder were all he managed.

"Jaskier, it's me. You were starting to lean, would have fallen off," Geralt informed him, letting go almost immediately. "You're safe. I'm not going to do anything to you. You're safe. Hang on just a little longer, Jaskier. It's only minutes now."

Geralt's voice sounded pained.

Jaskier wished he had the energy to ask what was wrong.

But even realizing the reason the world alternated between black and white was blinking took effort. Having a conversation would be impossible.

"Let me help you down?" Geralt asked, rousing Jaskier from the fuzzy headspace he had entered.

"...Wha…?"

"Found a campsite. We made it. You made it."

Oh, that was nice.

This was fucking bad.

"Will you let me help you?" Geralt repeated, hoping Jaskier would give an actual answer instead of just slowly blinking at him.

"...Yeah…" Jaskier mumbled and moved, making Geralt hastily grab hold of him as Jaskier more slipped off the saddle than dismounted.

Geralt swore he was the only reason Jaskier didn't continue his descend to the ground. At least he got a good look at the bard's rosy cheeks, pleased to see there wasn't even a hint of blue on his chapped lips. The drowsiness and lack of shivering weren't caused by hypothermia then like he had started to worry about but by exhaustion. Jaskier wasn't freezing to death and Geralt was determined to keep it like that.

"Sit," Geralt said, dusting snow off a fallen tree trunk next to them.

Jaskier immediately wrenched himself away from him to do so, clearly afraid of touch. It was a major miracle he had allowed it at all. Hopefully had allowed and not having thought there was no choice.

"I'm going to pitch up the tent. You can change clothes in it and take a nap while I make us something hot to eat and drink," Geralt continued, not sure if Jaskier was registering the words. He was just quietly sitting with bowed back and resting his forearms on his knees.

Geralt dearly wished they could have taken a long break earlier like they had been doing so far. But mountain passes and thick snowfalls didn't mix. Despite the daylight hours it was starting to get hard to see, even for him. Geralt was rather sure Jaskier hadn't been able to see much farther than his own hand for a while now.

Done removing as much snow as possible to expose the dirt and stomping the rest into something resembling level ground, Geralt started to pitch up the tent as quickly as possible.

"Jaskier, I'm finished. Get in," Geralt said, throwing last of their blankets inside the tent.

"Move," Geralt ordered when Jaskier didn't get up right away. There would be time for gentleness later.

Once Jaskier wasn't sitting in a snowfall in what had to be sweat-damp clothes, inviting cold to set in.

This time Jaskier did get up, movements slow and uncoordinated, and made his way inside the tent.

"Change," Geralt gave another order, lobbing Jaskier's saddlebag after the bard. "I'll leave you be for a while afterwards."

That should be enough incentive for him to do one last task before surrendering to sleep.

Jaskier taken care of, Geralt turned to Roach.

"Thanks, Roach. You did great, letting Jaskier ride and not stumbling even once despite the snow and difficult footing," Geralt spoke to the mare, unloading the rest of their things and making sure they'd be protected from the weather with an oilskin canvas.

That done he returned to Roach with water quickly melted from snow with a weak _Igni_ sign and feed.

"You won't mind him continuing to ride for the rest of the journey, will you? Most parts at least, he can't do it all the time. I knew this would be hard on him, just ended up underestimating how badly it'd affect him. I keep doing that," Geralt continued, brushing and drying her sweaty and snow-damp coat as well as he could. She wouldn't get a cold if he had anything to say about it. "I fucking keep doing it, overestimating how much he can handle, even after all this time. I just don't fucking learn."

Roach didn't have anything to say about it, just munched away with gusto.

"It varies so much from day to day. I don't like using the word but he's still unstable, things can easily cause him to spiral. Jaskier has gotten a lot better at talking about what's going on but he still keeps pushing past his limits and downplaying things," Geralt confided in Roach, placing a horse blanket on the mare to keep her warm after the strenuous workout. "He needs to stop it and start telling me about what he deems minor things. Because they usually aren't minor. You know that, Roach."

"At least Kaer Morhen is getting close," Geralt sighed, finishing cleaning Roach's hooves and checking fetlocks. "He needs stability in his life currently. He recovered so much when we stayed at Brajan's inn."

"He also doesn't have to stress about money now. I swear I'll punch him if he offers to pay rent or something," Geralt huffed, giving the mare a few final scratches. "I better start building the fire and fix something to eat. Enjoy your free time, Roach."

Once Geralt was satisfied he could leave their food to cook without supervision for a while he poured a mug of tea and walked to the tent.

"Jaskier? Are you awake?" he called and repeated the question louder when there wasn't an answer.

"Guhhhh."

Well. It was a sound.

"I'm coming in," Geralt informed Jaskier before sticking his head in to check the situation before entering.

Jaskier was squinting at him bleary-eyed from underneath a mound of blankets, looking offended by being awakened. "...What…?"

"Brought tea. It's your lavender one. Should make you feel warmer too," Geralt said, moving to sit as far from Jaskier as possible.

It was very close.

Jaskier kept eyeing the distance.

Geralt wished they had a bigger tent.

"...Thanks," Jaskier muttered, still sounding a bit miffed and sat up.

"Here." By now it was a reflex to make sure his fingers wouldn't brush against Jaskier's even for a fraction of a second when handing something.

"Thanks," Jaskier repeated, sounding much more sincere this time as he cradled the warm mug in his hands.

"How do you feel?" Geralt asked, studying Jaskier keenly.

Jaskier just shrugged. "Guess."

"I'd rather you tell me," Geralt said blandly.

"Exhausted. Tired. Fatigued. Take your pick," Jaskier muttered before taking the first sip. The taste or the warmth seemed to please him since he immediately repeated the action.

"And your…" Geralt wasn't sure how to word it.

"Fucked up brain?" Jaskier offered.

Geralt had to take a deep breath and hastily grab a hold of his patience before he could say something he'd regret. Jaskier was exhausted, always got even more self-deprecating when tired. It was no reason to snap at the bard.

"Don't talk about yourself like that," Geralt said firmly. "I just want to know if you're alright."

"...Maybe not," Jaskier mumbled, slumping slightly. "Everything is foggy. Not that badly, I know where I am. Can communicate with you without too much trouble. It's just… I feel down and exhausted."

An honest answer even if not the best of news.

But it could be far worse.

"Do you hurt anywhere?" Geralt asked, almost sure Jaskier had to be after all the climbing.

"..."

There came the limit of open honesty.

"Jaskier."

"..."

"Just tell me," Geralt sighed, fed up with the dance.

"...My everything aches," Jaskier admitted, averting his eyes.

"You should stretch. It'll get worse otherwise," Geralt advised, causing Jaskier to groan. Ignoring it, he continued, "Do you have a headache?"

Jaskier's guilty shifting was an answer enough. Why the fuck he still avoided mentioning those was a mystery.

"I'll bring you a painkiller and food. Try to stay awake," Geralt said, masking his frustration as well as he could and exited the tent.

Focusing on the sounds of shifting fabric and quiet curses coming from inside Geralt guessed Jaskier had started to do some sort of stretches. Most likely rather unsuccessfully. At least he was trying.

Soon enough Geralt entered the tent again, bringing the food and painkiller with him and found Jaskier trying and failing to reach his toes while sitting.

"Here," Geralt said, offering Jaskier a bowl and kept watching him until he took the first unenthusiastic bite. It was only then that Geralt started on his.

"Jaskier, you should try not to sleep the whole day away," Geralt recommended, looking in dismay how Jaskier fought to keep his eyes open. "It won't be good for you."

"Geralt… I don't know if I can do that. I'm sorry," Jaskier said, refusing to meet Geralt's eyes. "I'm so sorry I probably can't help you with chores and such. I can, I will, try but…"

"I don't mean you have to fill your day with activities, Jaskier. You need rest," Geralt said, shaking his head. "Just try to stay awake for a couple of hours once in a while. Should make it easier for you to sleep through the night."

"...Good point…" Jaskier agreed, sounding reluctant.

"I'll keep waking you up if necessary," Geralt promised.

Jaskier wished Geralt had been more lax with his promise and hadn't kept waking him up so regularly. The only positive thing about it was that he got to spend time with Geralt. That was always lovely.

But he really did wish he could have just been sleeping the day away. Everything just was so much and he had no energy to deal with anything. It wasn't as if there even was much to do inside the tent. Might just as well have slept. Getting up to go pet Roach once the snowfall ended was nice at least despite how stiff he was. Stretching a few separate times didn't help much.

It was wonderful news when Geralt finally informed him about nightfall. How the Witcher could tell when the sun had set hours ago was a mystery. One he didn't currently care about.

What Jaskier did care about was making sure Geralt wouldn't sleep outside in the snow.

"Geralt, sleep with me," Jaskier blurted, fidgeting with his beads. "Next to me, I mean. In the tent."

"No." Geralt immediately shot down the idea.

"Don't be an idiot. It's cold and snowy outside," Jaskier said, trying to present a calm demeanor. It probably wasn't going well.

"No. I can hear your heartbeat and smell your fear, Jaskier. You don't want me that close and definitely not like that," Geralt stated. If Jaskier didn't know him as well as did, he would have missed the flash of pain in Geralt's eyes.

Jaskier really fucking hated himself for not being able to give Geralt all he deserved.

Denying being afraid would be useless. "I'll be fine. It's just one night Geralt and I swear I'll join you freezing outside if you insist sleeping there."

"The fuck you will," Geralt grumbled, scowling at him.

At least Jaskier thought he was. It was too dark to be sure.

"I will," Jaskier promised, laying back down. He didn't have the energy to do this, not really. "Sleep inside, Geralt."

"Jaskier…"

"Sleep," Jaskier commanded and closed his eyes.

Geralt's presence was suddenly scaring him. It was stupid. Nothing had changed, nothing would. Geralt wouldn't do anything to him.

He wouldn't.

Wouldn't.

Jaskier could tell that Geralt had laid down on his side very carefully, leaving as much space as possible between them. It wasn't much at all.

It felt like Geralt was staring at him.

Jaskier clutched his beads tightly with both hands, willing his breaths to stay steady.

In and out.

In and out.

It felt like his heart was trying to burst out of his chest.

He couldn't do this.

In a flash Jaskier moved, kicking his bedroll off and stumbled outside on unsteady legs. His eyes were burning with tears.

Geralt was calling for him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Geralt," Jaskier managed to say between building sobs. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Jaskier. You don't have to apologize, have nothing to apologize for," Geralt said softly, having come to stand just out of reach. "It's alright."

Jaskier could only shake his head.

"Jaskier, I won't hurt you. You're safe. You didn't even do anything wrong," Geralt continued calmly. "Everything is fine."

"No it's not. It's not. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm a fucking wreck. I'm sorry." Jaskier knew he should stop apologizing, knew Geralt hated it. He couldn't. "I'm sorry I can't even sleep next to you. I'm sorry I make everything difficult. I'm so _sorry_."

"Take a deep breath. Slowly. You need to calm down."

It was hard. Breathing was hard. But not impossible, not yet. Geralt was right, he needed to calm down before he'd drive himself into a full blown panic attack.

"I'm sorry. Sorry," Jaskier mumbled, remembering how to use his legs.

Roach didn't protest when Jaskier hugged her, only turned her head to gently huff at him. She was so warm and solid.

"...You knew I'd react like this, didn't you…?" Jaskier asked after they had been standing in silence for a while and his tears had dried.

"You haven't been okay with touch today and told me you were overwhelmed and tired," Geralt agreed. "Me sitting with you was enough to make you tense up."

It was true.

"...I thought… I thought I could handle it…" Jaskier whispered, voice breaking. Fuck he was weak.

"Jaskier, sleeping next to me is huge. It's perfectly fine that you can't do so right now," Geralt said seriously.

No, it wasn't.

Jaskier didn't find the energy to explain it to Geralt.

"...Thank you for letting me make my own mistakes," Jaskier murmured quietly instead, focusing on the feeling of carding his fingers through Roach's mane. He really was grateful Geralt let him find things out for himself despite the Witcher having a good idea how badly something would turn out. Grateful that Geralt intervened only if he was about to do something dangerous or harmful.

"Hmmm."

"Now what?" Jaskier asked, still not looking at Geralt.

"Now you return to the tent before you lose your toes and go to sleep," Geralt said, making Jaskier realize he was standing in the snow wearing only woolen socks, boots sitting safely in his bedroll.

"And you?" Jaskier knew what the answer would be.

"I'll spend the night outside."

Jaskier wished he had been wrong.

"Geralt, no. You'll freeze. There's not enough snow for you to make a burrow or any other kind of a snow shelter. It'd take you hours and hours to gather big enough a snow pile," Jaskier protested against the idea. "Just come into the tent with me, please."

"We'll talk more there," Geralt said, gesturing for Jaskier to start walking.

Jaskier was glad he could avoid facing Geralt for a little longer as he changed his soaked socks, not wanting to see the disapproving expression Geralt would surely be wearing.

"I could take a sleeping potion," Jaskier said hesitantly, nervously massaging feeling back into his toes. "Then I wouldn't be aware of where you are or what you're doing."

"No," Geralt snapped, making Jaskier flinch. "Absolutely not."

"But-"

"No. You're not drugging yourself."

"...Fine." It would have been the easiest way to deal with the problem. A bad solution but an easy one. "But you need to sleep and stay warm, Geralt."

Jaskier wasn't sure how much more arguing he had in himself. Probably not much. Hopefully Geralt would see reason soon.

"Jaskier, can you fall asleep if I'm this close to you?" Geralt asked bluntly but calmly.

"Yes." No.

Not after that fucking fiasco. Not with the way the tent left only one escape route. Not with how anxious he was. It was awful, being suddenly afraid of Geralt. It always was, each rare time it happened. Jaskier hated it whole-heartedly. Usually Geralt made him feel safe, loved, secure. Every positive emotion there was. Now the unnecessary and unwanted fear was rearing its head.

Geralt gave a heavy sigh, clearly noticing the lie.

"If you really insist on me staying with you, I could stay outside until you fall asleep and come in after that," Geralt offered, sounding reluctant.

It was kind of Geralt to try to give him a say in the issues.

Jaskier knew he didn't have to do that, could just decide what would happen.

"I'm not going to lay down next to you even then, Jaskier. I can sit by the flap, get out on second's notice," Geralt continued. "I refuse to make you terrified on purpose."

Jaskier was sure this was Geralt's last offer.

"...Okay…" It was far better than Geralt spending the whole night outside.

"Good night, Geralt. I love you," Jaskier said subdued but meaning each word as he settled back into his bedroll.

"Night," Geralt said softly before hurrying back out in the cold.

Come morning, Jaskier couldn't help but be surprised that it had taken him only a handful of times of jerking awake the moment Geralt tried to enter before he had finally slept through it. At least Jaskier sorely hoped he had slept through it and Geralt hadn't given up and spent the whole night outside in the snow. It was hard to say with the way Geralt was making breakfast by the fire when Jaskier exited the tent but he didn't look worse for wear so Jaskier decided not to probe the issue. He didn't want to know, not really. This way he could pretend not having caused Geralt to be completely miserable through the whole night.

"Morning," Jaskier greeted, voice sleep-rough as he sat down next to Geralt carefully leaving a bit of distance between them.

He wasn't scared anymore. Just needed it.

Geralt would understand.

"Hmmm," Geralt acknowledged him, flipping sizzling sausages in a skillet.

Tilting his head up Jaskier observed the clear sky and the beautiful colors of the rising sun. It was much colder than yesterday too, air crisp and fresh. He wondered how it smelled to Geralt.

"Here," Geralt said, offering Jaskier a plate.

It was absolute bullshit that his frayed nerves were still making it hard to eat. Jaskier was perfectly aware he needed to, that it was even more important now that they were traveling through such difficult terrain in the cold. He even wanted to, it just was a fight.

"How are you feeling?" Geralt asked like each morning.

"Better," Jaskier said, not having a good answer since he himself wasn't sure of how he was doing.

"Do you want to rest today, take a day off?" Geralt sounded so concerned it made some of the ice encasing Jaskier's heart melt away.

He didn't feel as bad anymore.

"No." Jaskier shook his head. "Let's just travel on."

He was tired and ached. Felt cold with anxiety and depression. He could just as well continue feeling like that while they traveled.

"Are you sure?" Geralt asked, sounding doubtful.

"Yeah. Better to get to Kaer Morhen as soon as possible, right?" Jaskier said. "Besides, I'd rather collapse there than in the middle of the wilderness."

Maybe he should have chosen his words more carefully. Geralt was grinding his teeth the way that meant he was trying hard not to shout or growl.

"Jaskier, if you're exhausted enough for that, we definitely need to rest today," Geralt ground out.

"It was just a hyperbole, Geralt," Jaskier sighed.

Most likely a hyperbole.

Hopefully a hyperbole.

"Hnn."

"I'll be fine," Jaskier said, getting up to empty the tent.

Three hours later Jaskier was thinking he might not be fine after all.

It hadn't been bad at first, just riding Roach at walk. He was warm and the activity was light enough. It was pleasantly quiet with only snow crunching underfoot and a breeze ruffling their clothes and Roach's mane. Honestly, it was the most pleasant part of crossing the mountains so far. Then the path became treacherous again with the way it turned narrow, serpentine, and quickly varied in altitude. It would apparently be just a couple of miles before it'd get safe to ride again but Jaskier was starting to become convinced they'd be the longest miles of his life.

The crunching underfoot was now mocking him, each of his steps demonstrating the depth of the snow. It wasn't even that thick of a layer, not quite reaching even Jaskier's calves but it made walking harder. More strenuous.

It also neatly hid irregularities of the ground.

"Bloody hell!" Jaskier exclaimed, stumbling for the third time and barely staying on his feet.

"Be careful," Geralt snapped once again, hand hovering only inches from Jaskier's forearm.

"I'm trying. I just can't see rocks and cracks through the snow," Jaskier huffed, arranging his cloak to cover himself properly again.

"Hnn."

Geralt wasn't the only one displeased by his difficulties with staying upright so the Witcher could stop staring at him like that. It was irritating.

"I have stayed on my feet so-"

"-faaaaaaar!" Jaskier started only to finish it as a shriek as he slipped on a hidden patch of ice.

Geralt quickly grabbed hold of Jaskier, only to have himself also dragged down and over the ledge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear the fluff tag is there for a reason...! 
> 
> The first draft Jaskier actually meme'd that fall...
> 
> "I haven't fallen down-"  
> "-yeeeeet-!" Jaskier started
> 
> (Btw, I absolutely love each and every comment and will get around to answering them but there might be a slight delay. Hopefully not but just wanted to let you know. ❤️)


	3. Chapter 3

Geralt swore his heart stopped beating as Jaskier stumbled again, this time clearly unable to right himself, feet slipping on snow-hidden ice. Before Geralt had time to even register moving he had grabbed Jaskier, trying to keep him on his feet. In the next split second he realized Jaskier's momentum was enough to drag him forward onto the same fucking patch of ice. By then it was too late to adjust his footing, the mirror smooth surface too slippery. Feeling himself falling, Geralt yanked Jaskier closer and curled protectively around him.

Geralt was sure he had never been as happy as he currently was about hitting ground almost immediately and starting to roll downhill. His happiness didn't last long when he felt something twist in his ankle and had his vision momentarily blacken with pain.

He wasn't exactly sure how long it took for them to come to a stop but it was far too long.

"...Jaskier?" Geralt coughed out, trying to get enough air into his lungs. He felt like he had been thrown off a cliff which was quite appropriate.

There was a small scared sound and weak movements, making Geralt immediately let go of Jaskier despite how his instincts were telling him to keep the bard as close as possible. To keep him out of the harm's way.

"Jaskier?" Geralt asked again, voice stronger this time.

He still didn't receive a verbal answer but Jaskier did roll out of his embrace. For the second time within a minute or so Geralt felt his heart skip a beat as he saw blood running down Jaskier's face.

It looked far worse than the time Jaskier had stupidly protected him from a thrown tankard.

Or maybe it was just the circumstances.

The dazed eyes and irregular breathing did nothing to calm Geralt down, made him only wonder if Jaskier was having some sort of a flashback triggered by the tight and protective embrace on top of everything else.

"Jaskier, answer me. Now!" Geralt commanded, wanting to touch him to search for injuries. If Jaskier didn't react to him soon, he'd do it. Consequences be damned.

Which there would be.

"...Ge- Geralt…?" Jaskier whispered, eyes almost focusing on him.

"Yes." Fuck yes. "Jaskier, you need to control your breathing. Can you do it?"

"Mmmm."

Geralt was reminded of his own state as pain flared up his right leg when he sat up.

Broken, most likely. Badly sprained at least.

Otherwise his armor seemed to have done its job despite the way Geralt felt rather battered. He would have to give himself a check up later to make sure. Right now Jaskier was far more important.

Jaskier whose only protection had been him and winter clothes.

Jaskier who was human and frailer than normally.

By the time Geralt managed to coax Jaskier into a normal breathing pattern he was sure it really had been some variation of a flashback. Much better than damage to lungs.

"...Hi…" Jaskier mumbled, looking Geralt in the eye. "What happened?"

"Fell off the cliff." Probably best not to mention it was because Jaskier had slipped on ice. It'd just make the bard immensely guilty and hopefully he'd remember it soon by himself.

"Oh. Feels like it," Jaskier said, starting to nod only to stop all movements with a groan and paling even more to the point there was almost a greenish tint to his skin

"Where do you hurt?" Geralt asked immediately, itching to touch.

"Everywhere," Jaskier muttered, sitting up very slowly.

"Don't move around yet," Geralt said sternly. "Can I touch your head? You're still bleeding."

"Please don't," Jaskier whispered, lifting a hand to probe the area slightly above his hairline gently.

It was fucking hard not to ignore the request.

After a few seconds Jaskier seemed to find whatever answer he had been looking for since he lowered his hand again and fully focused on Geralt. "Are you hurt? Sorry I didn't ask earlier."

"I'm fine. Maybe broke an ankle."

"You do realize those sentences aren't compatible?" Jaskier scowled at Geralt.

Jaskier was being far more coherent than the last time he had hit his head. It made Geralt wonder if he had avoided concussion this time and only scored a cut.

And the bleeding was slowing down in the frigid air.

Good.

Geralt simply ignored the accusation. "Are you okay?"

"I think I'm just bruised and scratched all over," Jaskier said.

"Hmmm."

"Geralt, what are you _doing_?" Jaskier exclaimed, watching as Geralt attempted to stand up. "Stop moving!"

"There's trees. I need to fashion a splint," Geralt said, continuing his struggle.

"The one with the broken leg isn't supposed to go get the materials," Jaskier declared and stood up.

Only to sway dangerously in place, looking like he'd either faint or throw up.

Neither happened.

Geralt stifled a sigh of relief.

"Give me your sword."

He didn't stifle a frustrated grumble.

"How else am I going to cut branches if there's nothing on the ground?" Jaskier asked, holding out his hand.

It was true. Geralt still didn't want to relinquish either one of his swords since it'd mean Jaskier would walk away from his immediate vicinity. Get too far for him to be able to reach him in time if something happened. Go too far to be protected.

"Just give it," Jaskier said wearily.

It was hard to watch Jaskier make his slow and unsteady way to the nearby crop of trees and after a short pause start hacking weakly at a shrub with a sword. Geralt was half surprised the bard didn't cut himself with the way he was forcing thin branches to bow toward the ground by stepping on them and hacking them with the heavy sword.

A small sliver of unease lifted off Geralt's shoulders once Jaskier returned to his side.

"Geralt, what happened to Roach?" Jaskier asked urgently, looking around.

"She stayed on the ledge," Geralt informed him, taking his sword back and started to trim one of the branches. "Looked down at us for a while before walking away. She'll probably head to Kaer Morhen. Or find us."

Kaer Morhen was the more probable destination. If it was just him and Roach they would reach the keep by the early afternoon. Having a search party come for them wasn't how Geralt had wanted to arrive but in these circumstances he'd welcome a helping hand, despite the fact that he'd never stop hearing about it.

Moving on to the next soon-to-be splint, Geralt studied Jaskier. "Has something started to hurt more?"

"Not really." Jaskier shrugged carefully, clearly avoiding any sudden movements. "I'm just more aware."

That was good. Especially if he also meant being more aware of what was going on.

"What the hell are we going to do, Geralt?" Jaskier asked, sounding lost.

"Continue toward Kaer Morhen. Either Roach will find us or she'll alert Vesemir and whoever is already at the keep that something has happened to me. In that case they'll come searching," Geralt said.

"I'm so sorry, Geralt. This is my fault. This is all my fault," Jaskier said, voice trembling and composure cracking. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Honestly, he had kept himself together longer than Geralt had expected.

Then again, Jaskier was good at dealing with emergencies.

"You're not at fault, Jaskier. It was an accident," Geralt said seriously, meaning his words. The situation was fucking frustrating and he was worried as hell but it wasn't as if Jaskier had meant to slip on the ice. And neither had he right after the bard, stepping exactly on the same fucking spot despite knowing it was there. If anything, it was him who should be apologizing to Jaskier.

"It is. It's my fucking fault you're hurt. Again," Jaskier gasped.

Oh fuck.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I keep getting you hurt. I'm sorry." Jaskier's gasps were turning into sobs. "I'm so sorry for hurting you. Endangering you."

"Jaskier, stop. This isn't your fault. Neither was the feast," Geralt stated forcefully, stopping whitling the splints. "You couldn't control what happened. Not then, not now. It's not your fault. Do you understand?"

"...It is, it was…" Jaskier said faintly.

Geralt wondered if it was possible to lose a piece of one's heart. It certainly felt like a shard had splintered off.

"No. We've talked about this before. Nothing that happened was your fault. Nothing," Geralt said, knowing he wouldn't be able to convince Jaskier to accept it even temporarily. Not when he was this shaken up. "Jaskier, calm your breathing. Focus on my voice and taking slow breaths."

All he could do was try to calm Jaskier down, draw him out of the spiraling guilt.

Give him a lifeline.

It took minutes before Jaskier finally got his breathing and tears until control. Geralt didn't believe for a second the same could be said about the guilt.

"I'm sor-" Jaskier started, only to change his words at Geralt's glare. "Can I help with your leg?"

"Sure," Geralt agreed and started to finish the last branch only to notice Jaskier unclasping his cloak. "What are you doing?"

"We need something to bind the splints to support your ankle," Jaskier said, drawing a slim stiletto from his boot.

"You're not going to shred your cloak, you idiot," Geralt snapped. "Use mine."

"But it's because of me that-"

_"Use. Mine."_

"...Fine," Jaskier muttered, wrapping the cloak back around his shoulders where it belonged.

It took surprisingly little time to take care of their injuries after that, both far more practiced than was reasonable for anyone who wasn't a healer. Although, there wasn't much left of Geralt's cloak once they were done.

"Let me help you up and walk, Geralt," Jaskier said, coming to stand right by Geralt's side.

"You don't have to," Geralt said seriously.

"I want to," Jaskier said. There was a slight tremble in his voice but his expression was resolute.

With a disgruntled sigh Geralt took hold of the offered arm and let Jaskier help him up. The moment he had found his balance Jaskier slung Geralt's arm over his shoulders to support him better. It wasn't the most comfortable arrangement since Jaskier didn't hold his waist and kept unconsciously leaning away. Geralt could feel him take a few shuddering breaths before gathering himself.

Geralt felt fucking proud of him.

They should get moving while Jaskier still could stand such close contact.

It surely wouldn't last long.

"Which way?" Jaskier seemed to share the thought.

"Left."

Jaskier was hating each second.

It was his fucking fault Geralt had gotten hurt. He should have been more careful. Should have anticipated there to be ice on the path underneath the snow, not only uneven ground. Geralt shouldn't have tried to help him, should just have let him tumble down alone.

But no, Geralt had had to be an idiot.

A hurt idiot now.

There were stubborn tears stinging Jaskier's eyes, making it hard to see but not falling. He wasn't sure whether it was anxiety and fear or exertion making his heart beat faster. But combined together the racing sensation was bordering on painful. Everything hurt.

He felt like he had been beaten with a chair leg all over. He could feel the phantom hits.

His head was swimming and hot daggers were being stabbed right into it.

Geralt was a heavy and frightening weight against him.

Jaskier hoped he was out of panic. After all, he had already had a flashback and a panic attack almost back to back. That should be more than enough for one day.

Jaskier was perfectly aware it didn't work like that.

But he'd do this, would help Geralt walk even though the heavy arm around his shoulders and the side pressing against his were burning him through the clothes. It felt like there would be fresh brands.

There was nothing else to be done except to get as close to Kaer Morhen as possible and hope help would arrive. And that meant putting up with being touched.

He hated it.

Was getting terrified.

There was no reason to be afraid.

"Jaskier, you don't have to do this. I can manage," Geralt said for the umpteenth time.

"No."

"I can smell your fear, Jaskier."

"I don't care." Jaskier blinked tears away. "I'll carry you if I have to."

"You can't," Geralt said.

"Fucking watch me," Jaskier ground out.

"You literally, physically, can't," Geralt stated. "You don't have the strength."

Jaskier knew Geralt was right. It was doubtful he'd manage more than two tiny steps if he even could lift the Witcher. Didn't mean he wouldn't try.

"Stop." Geralt took his arm back and balanced on his good leg. "I won't let you do this to yourself."

"How else are you going to walk? Use your swords as crutches and destroy the blades?" Jaskier asked, voice cracking.

It was a huge relief not to be touched.

He didn't want it to be.

"There might not even be a fracture,"  
Geralt said, sounding far too nonchalant. "Besides, I've walked on a broken leg before."

"That's worse!" Jaskier exclaimed. "You're not doing it again. Give me your arm."

"No."

Jaskier felt like screaming in frustration.

Fucking stubborn Witcher.

"Geralt, there's nothing to use to make crutches. It's not like I can scale those pines to reach the branches and then miraculously cut them with a sword. I could barely manage those," Jaskier said, gesturing at the splints. "Please, let me help you."

With a glare and clenched jaw Geralt finally agreed.

Jaskier couldn't help the way his breath caught and a shudder ran through him the moment Geralt placed his arm around his shoulders.

"Jaskier…" Geralt sounded pained.

"No. We're doing this," Jaskier muttered and did his best to shove the building terror deep down.

It was slow going and Jaskier was afraid to look back in case the spot they had landed on was still within eyesight. It wouldn't surprise him. At least they weren't lost. Geralt knew exactly where they were and where they had to go. Not that it'd help if they couldn't walk.

Geralt's angry silence was deafening. Jaskier wished he'd say something, anything, even just to berate him. He simply wanted the silence to be broken and he didn't have enough air to do so. It was all escaping in white clouds that were blown away by the freezing wind.

"Let's stop, take a break," Geralt said.

Jaskier wanted to throw the arm around him away. Instead he carefully ducked away as not to unbalance Geralt.

"Sit down for a minute, Jaskier. I haven't forgotten you're hurt too," Geralt sighed, lowering himself to sit on a broken boulder.

Jaskier followed suit with far less care and as far from him as possible.

"Jaskier, you can't continue supporting me," Geralt said seriously. "You're teetering on the edge of what you can handle, have pushed yourself farther over it than you should. And you're tiring yourself out too, taking part of my weight."

"...I can do it…" Jaskier knew he didn't sound convincing.

He couldn't convince even himself.

"You can't. We both know it." It hurt, hearing Geralt say the truth so bluntly.

"Are we going to stay here then? Wait for someone to come?" Jaskier asked quietly, drawing his cloak tighter around himself to stave off the cold. His teeth wanted to start chattering.

"No, better to try to get at least a bit farther. I told you, not the first time I've had a fucked up leg," Geralt said. "And I know you're exhausted but you should stay on the move or you'll start freezing."

"Mmhmm." Jaskier really didn't want to admit that Geralt had a point. Wool was wonderful for staying warm even when damp but it didn't grant miracles and this time aside from sweating, all the snow that had stuck to him while rolling downhill had melted and been absorbed, some of the snow had even made its way inside his clothes. He had done his best to cover the torn patches on his trousers and shirt with strips of Geralt's cloak but it still felt like the cold wind was finding every little tear. He really couldn't afford to stay still for long to have even a chance of avoiding hypothermia. They'd need a veritable bonfire to keep him warm in these clothes if they stopped for more than a couple of minutes.

"Just… Just promise me that we'll stop to make crutches for you the moment there's anything suitable for it," Jaskier said defeatedly, feeling guilty about how relieved he was not to be touching Geralt.

"Deal." Geralt nodded and offered Jaskier the pouch filled with trail mix that somehow had survived. "Eat. I know you must be thirsty too but don't even think about chewing snow. It'll only lower your core temperature."

"No snow, got it," Jaskier said, pouring some of the mix onto his hand before giving the pouch back.

Fuck but it was getting cold.

It felt like they had walked for a lifetime even though Jaskier was relatively sure they had crossed only a mile or so. The going just was agonizingly slow. At least they had found a sturdy fallen branch for Geralt to use as a cane. It was probably the only positive thing going for them.

Didn't help that Jaskier was relatively sure he'd collapse any minute now, whatever cache of energy and adrenaline that had activated was running out.

Now he was just cold, exhausted, and hurting. Laying down to sleep was an enticing idea.

And the stupidest thing he could possibly do.

"Jaskier, you're shivering," Geralt said suddenly, looking at him with a deep frown.

"Oh. That's not good," Jaskier said.

"No, it fucking isn't. We need to get you warm," Geralt agreed.

"I'm not snuggling you naked," Jaskier blurted, mere idea making panic rise.

"We're not doing that, Jaskier. It wouldn't even help currently. Take a slow breath," Geralt said calmly. "That's it, in and out."

"...Yeah. Yeah," Jaskier mumbled, clutching his beads. He wished he could feel them in sharper relief through the gloves. At least they hadn't been lost or broken. "Sorry…"

Geralt's weary sigh said it all.

"So…?" Jaskier ventured. Now that Geralt had pointed out the shivering it was all he could focus on.

"Let me think. But take these," Geralt said, taking his shredded cloak and gloves off and giving them to Jaskier.

So he didn't have an idea.

Not surprising. There was nothing but snow, trees, and uneven ground around them. Gwenllech river would be absolutely no use either, only a possible danger.

Even the cloak and double layer of gloves didn't help that much.

Jaskier knew for a fact he had never been colder than he was currently.

Suddenly Geralt stopped limping and drew his steel sword.

"...Are you going to kill me?" Jaskier asked, blinking at the blade.

"What the fuck, Jaskier?" Geralt grumbled and pointed an _Igni_ sign at the sword. "No, I'm not killing you. I'm trying to keep you alive, idiot."

"Keep it close and don't cut yourself," Geralt said, handing the sword radiating heat to Jaskier.

"Oh." Jaskier wanted to curl around the warm and incredibly heavy blade. But that would cut him to shreds.

"Is it helping?" Geralt asked, starting to limp forward once Jaskier nodded. "I'll keep renewing it once it cools down."

This was the weirdest and most dangerous way Jaskier had ever used as an attempt to keep himself warm. From freezing at least. He was loving the heat. It even helped a bit.

Few minutes later he accidentally dropped the sword, his strength failing.

"...Geralt… " Jaskier whispered, properly afraid. He _did not_ want to freeze to death. He wasn't sure what they could do to stop it.

They didn't have shelter and without one a fire wouldn't help enough, too much of the heat dispersing uselessly into the air. There were no dry, intact, and warm clothes. Jaskier wondered if his clothes were starting to frost over. He missed the hat he had been wearing before their tumble.

It had been a good hat. Warm. Had loyally covered his ears and now he had only a sad strip of cloak binding the cut on his temple.

Maybe he should hold a funeral for it.

"Jaskier, focus!"

Ah, yes. He should do that. If for no other reason than to not make Geralt repeat it yet again.

"Yes…?"

"Do you think you can carry the sword on your back?" Geralt asked, expression pinched.

"...Maybe?" Jaskier said.

"Great," Geralt said, starting to unbuckle the belt supporting its sheath.

The sword was even heavier than before but also easier to carry this way. And the warmth was worth it.

"Jaskier, keep talking to me," Geralt ordered and started to move again.

"...Sure. We should hold a funeral for my hat. I lost it," Jaskier said mournfully.

"The fuck?"

"It'll get buried under the snow, Geralt. Freeze. That's sad."

"Seriously, what the fuck?" Geralt asked with feeling.

"I don't want to be like my hat. You won't let me get buried underneath snow after I freeze, will you?" Jaskier said. "I'd rather be a warm corpse."

"You're not going to die," Geralt snapped vehemently.

"Don't be daft. Of course I am but I'm sure you can still get me somewhere warm," Jaskier said encouragingly. "I believe in you, Geralt."

"I'll set this fucking forest ablaze if I have to," Geralt snarled.

"...That's cute?" Maybe.

"There's nothing 'cute' about you talking about dying," Geralt growled.

"You're always cute," Jaskier protested before stopping in his tracks. "Geralt, have I ever told you that I love you? I need you to know it. I love you. So very much. For years. You're my sunshine and moonlight, the stars on the sky and the gravity keeping me from floating away."

"Come here right now," Geralt ordered, a strange edge in his voice.

"No! No, no, no, no." Jaskier backed away. He didn't want to be touched.

There was a flash of pained frustration in Geralt's eyes. "I need help walking."

"...Oh…" Well. In that case. Maybe he could do it if it was for Geralt.

He'd do anything for Geralt.

Jaskier walked cautiously to Geralt's side, hunching into himself and ready to bolt away. He wanted to say something. He wasn't sure what.

"Can I drape my arm around your shoulders?" Geralt asked.

"...Okay…" It wasn't okay. But it was the only way to help.

"Thank you," Geralt said solemnly.

Jaskier thought he might have started to cry the moment Geralt touched him. Maybe. Probably not. He just wanted to. There was a little bit of warmth to be found in the gesture. Would have been nice to be able to enjoy it. Instead he was relieved Geralt didn't draw him completely against his side. This way he could pretend being able to get away.

And the metal studs on Geralt's armor would surely be ice cold.

"Jaskier, you do know I've been trying to find shelter? One will l eventually crop up. You just have to hang on until then," Geralt said. "We'll get you warm again. For now you need to keep moving."

Warm.

That sounded nice.

The sword was still warm. It was nice.

"Jaskier?"

"Mmhmm?" Words were hard again. He was so exhausted.

"Need help, Wolf?" An unknown voice asked.

Geralt felt almost ready to kiss Eskel in gratitude.

Almost.

Instead he snapped rather unkindly, "Get here right now and give me your fucking cloak!"

To Eskel's credit he simply rode closer and jumped off the saddle to do exactly that. Only to stop in his tracks when Jaskier shied away, hiding behind Geralt's back.

Fuck, Eskel probably thought it were his scars that frightened Jaskier. There'd be time to explain later. Right now they needed to make Jaskier warmer.

"Cloak, Eskel. Give me your outer shirt too," Geralt ordered.

"...What?" Eskel asked bewildered at the request.

"Just do it."

As Eskel started to move quickly, apparently realizing the situation, Geralt turned to Jaskier. "Jaskier, take the cloaks off. You need to change your shirts for Eskel's too."

"No," Jaskier whispered, staring unblinking at Eskel.

"There's no catch, Jaskier. Eskel won't demand anything from you in return. His clothes are dry and warm, you need them," Geralt said as patiently as he could. It wasn't very patient at all.

"No."

Fuck.

Geralt wished he could just rip Jaskier's clothes off and switch them to Eskel's. The warm shirt and cloak would buy them more time.

"Do it!" Geralt snapped, making Jaskier flinch.

"...Can't…"

Right. That. "We'll do the same with Scorpion as we did with Roach."

"Do what?" Eskel asked, offering the clothes to Geralt.

"Eskel, bring Scorpion here. Jaskier, the cloaks," Geralt demanded, ignoring the question.

It was a fucking relief that neither of them gave further protests and did as commanded. Tried to. Jaskier didn't have enough dexterity anymore to unlatch the cloaks by himself, forcing Geralt to do it for him.

He'd have to thank Eskel later for taking all this in stride.

Soon enough Geralt let Eskel help him limp a little farther from Jaskier to let the bard change in relative privacy. Part of him was glad for the way Jaskier's heart was pounding in fear. It was proof that there was a pulse at all.

"Geralt, what has happened? Is he the bard you've told us about?" Eskel asked quietly, looking concerned.

"Yes, he's Jaskier," Geralt said, "We fell off the trail. Didn't you see Roach?"

"No." Eskel shook his head. "I was hunting, checking the traps, when I spotted you."

That explained how Eskel had gotten to them so fast. And why there was a sack smelling of dead rabbits hanging from Scorpion's tack.

"Hmmm."

"…Geralt…" Jaskier said faintly, stepping out from behind Scorpion and gesturing for Geralt to fasten the cloak. He was terribly pale, lips starting to gain a bluish tint.

"We need to go, get to Kaer Morhen," Geralt said, looking at Eskel.

"Get on Scorpion. He's strong enough to carry you both." Eskel nodded, answering the unsaid question. "Take your armor off, Geralt. Leaning against it will make Jaskier only colder."

At that Jaskier gave a small sound, clearly against the idea.

Tough luck. There wasn't another option. They'd just have to deal with the aftermath later.

"Get on the horse, Jaskier. I'll help you mount," Geralt said once the cloak was taken care of.

"Shouldn't I-"

"No. Don't touch Jaskier. Leave him alone." Geralt didn't let Eskel finish.

Eskel gave a sigh but didn't press the issue, probably not wanting to waste time on arguing.

Once Geralt managed to help rather unwilling Jaskier into the saddle Eskel spoke up. "Let me help you at least, Geralt. And take my gloves before your fingers fall off like icicles."

Geralt instinctively almost shot the offer down but managed to swallow the words in time, nodding his agreement instead. In seconds he was sitting behind Jaskier, trying to decide what to do with his hands. In the end he placed them against his own tights, ready to take hold of Jaskier in case he'd start to slip off.

After finishing securing Geralt's gear onto Scorpion's tack Eskel took one look at their strange arrangement and grabbed his stallion's reins to lead them in a brisk walk.

Geralt whole-heartedly hated making Jaskier endure unwanted contact once again but he also was glad to feel Jaskier's shivers against his front. It would be a fucking dangerous sign if they stopped and this way he could lend some body heat to help Jaskier.

Geralt wasn't glad about the quiet tears he could suddenly smell.

At Eskel's inquisitive gaze Geralt shook his head, hoping he'd let it go.

Thankfully Eskel simply nodded and turned to look forward again.

"So, you fell off the trail. Mind elaborating on how that happened?" Eskel said casually when they had traveled in silence for a while.

Tell me also why Jaskier is with you and what's wrong with him aside from freezing, Geralt added in his mind.

"Snow covered ice," Geralt said.

"You're lucky you didn't fall into a ravine. Would be a shame not to see your grumpy face again."

"Hmmm," Geralt hummed, distracted by the way Jaskier was shifting, trying in vain to get some distance between them. It didn't take long for him to settle down again.

"Has Lambert arrived yet?" Geralt asked.

"No. Bet he arrives in a couple of days, cursing up a storm about snow and the cold," Eskel said with a wry smile and a glance at Geralt.

"The usual then." Geralt nodded.

"...Geralt…? Let me down…?" Jaskier asked quietly.

The impossible request stabbed right through Geralt.

"No. You're riding with me."

"Mmm." Jaskier tried to pull on the cloak's hood to hide his face better only to give up when he didn't manage to get a grip on the fabric.

Geralt swore he could hear a stream of questions underneath Eskel's polite demeanor.

"Think you can handle a workout, Eskel?" Geralt asked.

"Running?" Eskel guessed.

"Hmmm."

"Can you handle not falling off a horse? No ice on that saddle," Eskel said, already picking up speed.

Geralt was grateful that Scorpion was a strong purebred Kaedweni war horse, would be just fine with a faster pace even with the difficult terrain and two riders. Although, Geralt wasn't sure if Jaskier could be counted as one. The bard weighted as much as his lute.

The fast pace was jarring but Geralt couldn't give a fuck about his ankle. They just needed to get to Kaer Morhen.

He did give a fuck about the scared yelp when he had to grab Jaskier to keep him from falling. He didn't dare to let go again.

"You okay there?" Eskel asked, glancing at them.

"Fine."

Jaskier didn't offer an opinion.

Geralt wished he did.

He also wished they didn't have to move Jaskier around like this, wished they could be more careful. It should be alright at this point but they'd have to slow down if Jaskier continued getting colder or risk complications.

Geralt was suddenly gripped by the irrational urge to ask if they'd be at Kaer Morhen soon. It was ridiculous, he was perfectly aware where they were and how long it'd take to arrive in the keep.

He had clearly spent far too much time with Jaskier.

He wanted to share so many more days with him.

The gate leading into the fortress was rising before they had even stepped on the drawbridge.

"That's an unusual catch to find in rabbit traps, Eskel," Vesemir greeted them, holding the reins of his blue roan gelding and turned around to return to the courtyard. "I was just about to go look for you, Geralt. Roach arrived alone."

"I see you also have company," he added.

"Jaskier," Geralt said. "We need to get him warm. Now."

"Did he fall in water?" Vesemir asked seriously.

"No," Geralt said, letting Eskel help him down after leading Scorpion right in front of the door. "Exposure. Bruising, scratches, head wound."

"And you?"

"Either broken or sprained ankle, some bruising. Nothing serious," Geralt answered absently, helping Jaskier dismount in turn. The bard was starting to resemble a ragdoll, shivering lessening by the minute and barely staying upright with help.

"Let me help him walk, Geralt. You're having enough trouble yourself," Vesemir said, walking to them.

"No," Geralt snapped, causing Vesemir to stare at him disapprovingly. It was rather effective, making him feel like a fresh novice being told off for fooling around. But there was no way he'd let anyone touch Jaskier regardless of whether or not he'd even register it.

"We'll talk later," Vesemir said, clearly more focused on getting Jaskier warm than starting to debate the issue, practical as ever. "Eskel, take care of the horses. I'll deal with these two."

It was awkward and painful going but soon enough they arrived in the grand hall and continued their way to the back of it where a blazing fireplace and a seating area were. Carefully, Geralt assisted Jaskier to lay down on the fur covered floor just far enough from the fire where he wouldn't warm up too quickly, heedless of his own aching leg.

He'd take care of himself once Jaskier was safely resting.

"I trust Eskel's clothes are still dry but those torn snow-damp trousers have to go," Vesemir stated, studying Jaskier critically.

"...No…" Jaskier mumbled faintly, blinking slowly at them.

Good, he still had some awareness.

"Don't argue, lad," Vesemir admonished him.

"Jaskier they have to go. Can I remove your boots and gloves?" Geralt said, wishing it wasn't so.

Staring at Vesemir with fear in his eyes Jaskier gave a small nod. Geralt was sure Jaskier would do anything asked of him right now, unable to refuse and not because of his physical state.

This was _not_ how he had wanted to introduce Jaskier to his family.

Swiftly tugging the boots and gloves off Geralt drew Jaskier's attention back to himself. "Can you take off your trousers by yourself? I'll cover you immediately, at the same pace they are removed."

Jaskier gave another small nod, looking panicked and absolutely terrified underneath the sluggishness. A definite confirmation of how easy it would be to make him do anything. The knowledge was tearing at Geralt even though right now it was lifesaving. Not that it took them far as Jaskier stopped fumbling with the buttons almost immediately, the familiar glazed look making its way into his eyes. At least it was a better alternative than Jaskier having a panic attack. That could be life threatening in his state with the way his heart would race, might incur a cardiac arrest.

This was the worst reason to be undressing Jaskier.

Geralt could almost hear Vesemir's thoughts.

Instead of saying anything about it Vesemir only advised him on what to do. "Wrap him up in the furs once you've taken those off and leave only the face visible. Don't rub him, we don't want the cold blood rushing into his heart."

"Hmmm."

"I brought Jaskier ginger tea," Eskel said, his footsteps having warned them about his imminent arrival long ago. Taking in Jaskier's appearance he added "Damn, he looks bad."

"Give me the tea. I'll see if I can get him to drink it," Geralt said, not having much faith.

He was still dismayed being right.

"Now, pup, let us take care of you and that leg of yours," Vesemir said, "Jaskier should keep warming up. You got him here in time."

"Don't be difficult," he added when Geralt only kept staring at Jaskier's pale face.

With a weary sigh and slumping shoulders Geralt nodded, finally feeling reassured that things would be alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOF. But at least they're safe now...! Although, I'm kinda nervous about writing the other Wolves. :'D 
> 
> Btw, walking on a badly sprained ankle HURTS. I once fell down while walking alone in a forest trail and had to limp home on one. 15min walk took 50mins and I had to use crutches for the next month.
> 
> And hypothermia is serious business. I mean it. Cold can easily kill you if the situation turns bad, take that from a northener. Wet and wind, the top two danger components.
> 
> Making headway with answering comments..! Gonna still be slow but I'm getting there...!


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Jaskier was aware of was the warmth.

The second one was that everything ached.

The third was having absolutely no fucking clue where he was.

"Jaskier? Are you awake?"

Ooooh, Geralt!

"Mrnghhh."

"I take that's a yes."

Jaskier decided to prove Geralt right and pried his eyes open despite the mound of sleep-crust gluing his lashes together, making the action far harder than was reasonable.

"...Hi," Jaskier said, feeling like his tongue was twice the size from normal. And his lips were smarting as they cracked, definitely dry and horribly chapped.

Not recommended.

"Do you know where you are?" Geralt asked with a worried frown.

Just in case Jaskier looked around. "No but I guess Kaer Morhen…?"

"Hmmm." Part of the frown smoothed away.

The furs he was swaddled in were lovely. Warm and soft. Jaskier snuggled deeper, enjoying the feeling. It'd be perfect if not for something tickling …his… …thigh…

"Geralt?! Why am I not wearing trousers?" Jaskier exclaimed, voice high and breaking. His chest was getting heavy and breathing hard. His head was swimming and all the warmth was suddenly replaced with ice cold water.

Had he… Had someone…

"You had hypothermia, had to get rid of them. I touched only the fabric. Didn't want to dress you without consent, couldn't have done it without contact," Geralt explained quickly, "Nothing happened to you, Jaskier. You're safe. _Nothing_ will happen to you here. It's safe."

It sounded reasonable.

Geralt's voice was coming from very far away.

Being covered with furs and having his underwear on wasn't helping. He needed-

"-My clothes," Jaskier gasped. "I need-"

Not the unfamiliar shirt he was wearing.

It wasn't safe. It wasn't safe to wear someone else's clothes, not bought by them, not borrowed from them.

Only Geralt's were safe.

Others would want something from him, would view him as theirs. Use them to claim him. Just like Marden.

He needed to get rid of the shirt.

He couldn't, not without something else to wear.

"I have them here. Jaskier, look around and tell me what you see," Geralt said calmly. "You're safe. Focus on your surroundings. Or me. It's safe. You're safe. Slow breaths, remember?"

The familiarity of the words was helping.

Geralt wouldn't lie.

Wouldn't have done something.

He wouldn't.

It took Jaskier a while to convince himself. For his anxiety and terror to start calming down, letting him think again.

To breathe again.

To list things around them as Geralt had told him.

"...Hi…" Jaskier whispered, letting go of his beads he had been clutching to quickly wipe tears away and reach for the pile of clothes Geralt had placed next to him.

"Feeling better?" Geralt asked, unhappy lines on his face.

"Mmmm."

"I'll leave you to change, Jaskier. I'll be right back," Geralt said, standing up with the help of crutches.

"Geralt? Are you alright?" Jaskier asked, hugging his clothes tightly. He needed to know. "Does your ankle hurt? Or anything else?"

"I'm fine, Jaskier. Just a bad sprain," Geralt said, limping away. "And no, it doesn't. I just need to rest it and be careful for a couple of days."

"That's good," Jaskier said relieved. Witcher healing truly was amazing.

Witcher healing. …Witcher hearing…

Jaskier flushed in shame, realizing that most likely the whole keep had heard his panicked awakening. Suddenly he wasn't so sure if it had been a good idea to come to Kaer Morhen. There was no way that'd be the only attack for the winter. Everyone would hear him falling apart. Maybe he should start shoving a gag into his mouth to not disturb everyone. Geralt wouldn't like it but it still sounded better than inconveniencing all residents.

The current number he wasn't sure of.

He did have a memory of a heavily scarred man, Eskel?, helping them. And later an old man. Maybe? That'd probably be Vesemir. If Lambert was here then he simply didn't remember him or hadn't met yet.

Jaskier hoped it was the latter.

It was bad enough his first meeting with Eskel and Vesemir had been a complete catastrophe which he didn't even remember almost anything of. Having a chance to leave a good first impression on even one of Geralt's family members would be a blessing. Even if that wasn't the easiest thing to do with Lambert from what he had heard from Geralt.

Still, at least a possibility.

"I'm done," Jaskier said quietly after changing and making sure that he wasn't showing half an inch more of skin than absolutely necessary, knowing Geralt could hear him perfectly. He really wasn't a pretty sight with the developing bruises and scratches of different severity. Not that anyone else would be witnessing the state of his skin.

He really didn't understand how Geralt managed to make even his crutches almost silent while walking.

"Jaskier, are you still cold?" Geralt asked once he had returned to sit with him, albeit in a chair this time.

"It's warm but I'm chilly. If that makes sense," Jaskier said, wrapping his weighted blanket that had been among the furs around his shoulders. It helped a little. Grounded him, took some of the fear away with its familiarity.

He was sick of being afraid.

"There's tea behind you by the hearth."

"...That definitely wasn't the first impression I wanted to make…" Jaskier muttered after getting the still-warm mug.

"Hmmm."

"Who did I meet? Eskel and Vesemir?" Jaskier asked, wanting to clear things up for himself and focus on something concrete. "And what time is it?"

"It's the next noon. You woke up a few times for long enough to mumble complaints about the pain once your skin started to thaw and drink a bit. And yes, it was them," Geralt said, staring at him. Jaskier wasn't exactly sure if he was even blinking.

"That's just great. Always wanted to meet them when I'm half-dead," Jaskier sighed and took a sip of the tea, reveling in the warmth despite the way his lips stung.

"How badly are you hurting?" Geralt asked, still not looking anywhere else. "Don't deny it. You have to be bruised and scratched as all hell, cut open your temple, and had frostnips.

"Geralt, I'm not going anywhere," Jaskier said softly, placing his mug down. "I'm not dying, I'm not leaving you. Geralt, love, I know it's painful, have gone through the same too many times, but I swear I'm alright. Only temporary hurts."

The expression on Geralt's face told he had read him right.

"Warmth and rest and I'll be right as rain soon enough," Jaskier continued, reaching out with a shaking hand in a silent request for Geralt to touch him. "Feel my pulse? Still beating and not going to stop any time soon."

Jaskier waited just long enough for some of the tension to bleed out of Geralt's stiff frame before hastily drawing his hand back and taking hold of the tea mug again. That was more than enough touching for the day. For who knows how long, he sure didn't.

Jaskier wished he could give more.

But he was afraid. Even of Geralt. He didn't want to be. But Geralt had undressed him. There hadn't been a choice, he knew it. But he hadn't wanted, didn't want, Geralt to undress him. At all. Didn't want anyone to do it or see him in that state. At least he had managed to swallow the fear down for long enough to grant Geralt some solace, no matter how brief.

Jaskier was sure Geralt still knew. Knew he wouldn't be able to get over it completely for a while.

"They're coming," Geralt said after they had sat in silence for some time.

"Huh?"

"Eskel and Vesemir."

"Oh."

Time to meet them properly then.

Suddenly it didn't sound like a good idea. He had already screwed up. They'd have horrible impressions of him. He didn't know what he could do to reverse it. Nothing most likely. Two of the most important people in Geralt's life and he had arrived in the worst possible way.

Honestly, Geralt's hearing gave him far too much time to think.

"Good to see you awake," Vesemir greeted him, heading to sit in one of the chairs.

"Brought you food," Eskel said and blinked in surprise when Geralt nabbed the bowl from him. "Not for you. Go get your own, you sluggard."

Geralt just huffed and handed it to Jaskier in turn.

Jaskier wished to say something but there was an undercurrent of fear strong enough to render him wordless when he looked at Vesemir. He didn't remember anything that might have caused it. Except… maybe something to do with the undressing…? It seemed like the only logical conclusion.

"Jaskier."

He snapped his attention to Geralt, feeling a little like a cornered hare with the way all three Wolves were looking at him.

"It's alright."

Jaskier closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to center himself. It helped. A bit.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Jaskier as you surely know already," Jaskier said quietly, placing the bowl on the floor in favor of fidgeting with his beads. "Thank you for saving my life."

"No need to thank us. We're not in the habit of letting people die if preventable. I'm Vesemir," the old Witcher said, studying him keenly.

Whether it was for his health or person Jaskier couldn't say. Probably both.

"Welcome to Kaer Morhen, Jaskier. I'm Eskel. Geralt has told us a lot about you." Eskel said, nudging Geralt with his elbow. "He's surprisingly chatty when it comes to you."

Geralt gave a groan and swatted at the offending appendage. "Shut up."

"Still, I'm sorry for inconveniencing you. So sorry-" Jaskier cut off before he could start spiraling. "...Uh, has Geralt explained anything…?"

They had planned to do it together, give the others a brief overview of his fucked up brain right from the start to make staying here possible but… The circumstances were far from what they had been prepared for.

"That he has been tight-lipped about, too busy watching you sleep," Eskel answered. "Just told us he invited you to winter with us and might have a rough awakening."

Oh well. It would have been too good to wake up and hear that Geralt had taken care of it. It was also touching, knowing that Geralt wouldn't tell even his family anything he might not want to or feel ready to share.

Sweet Melitele, he loved that man.

That might actually be a good place to start. Definitely wouldn't make him cry. He wasn't looking forward to choking up.

"We probably should then…?" Jaskier trailed off, checking Geralt's expression.

Once he nodded, Jaskier started talking. "The biggest reason why Geralt invited me this winter is because we're together. Romantically."

"Ha!" Eskel barked with a wide grin. "Finally took your head out of your ass, Wolf?"

"He's been pining for you for ages in deep denial," Eskel continued, trying to muss up Geralt's hair and being foiled by Geralt wielding his crutch.

The ridiculousness seemed to run in the family.

It was enough to make Jaskier smile fondly.

"There are other reasons?" Vesemir asked seriously, despite the pleased gleam in his eyes.

The question made the smile disappear. "Yeah. I… I need a safe place."

"Hard to find a safer one than here." Vesemir nodded. It was unsettling having all of his razor-sharp focus on him, especially with the lingering unease and smidgen of honest fear left from something Jaskier couldn't remember.

"I'm not pursued or anything like that. Won't lead danger here," Jaskier said, having to blink to keep tears away. "It's… A couple of months ago…"

"It's alright, Jaskier. Take your time," Geralt said.

"Things happened. I didn't react well." An understatement. Jaskier wasn't sure how to continue.

"Long term complications?" Vesemir asked.

"...Yeah…" That was one way to say it. "I… There's… certain things I can't…"

Jaskier wanted to move closer to Geralt but it'd mean sitting by his feet and that was absolutely unacceptable in this situation. He wasn't sure if he could even move.

"Jaskier has triggers," Geralt said bluntly, cutting right to the point. "Things you need to avoid."

"I'm sorry for being such an inconvenience," Jaskier said quietly, voice trembling. "I'll do my best to not be only a burden."

"You're not," Geralt stated immediately. It was a lovely sentiment though false.

"What are these things?" Vesemir interrupted them.

"Please don't touch me," Jaskier said, that one easy to get out.

"That's a very simple one to avoid." Vesemir said. "Something else? You did use a plural."

"Don't undress me. Don't ask me to do so." This time Jaskier couldn't keep his voice from cracking or the threatening tears from starting to slowly run down his cheeks. He wanted to curl up and disappear.

There was a soft curse from Eskel.

When Jaskier opened his eyes again Geralt had moved to sit next to him. Now he wanted to curl around Geralt and disappear. Or shy away. Both and neither.

"You're safe," Geralt whispered barely audibly. "You can do this."

Jaskier appreciated the veneer of privacy despite the fact that everyone could hear the words.

Jaskier gave a shaky nod and continued, feeling terrible and trying to wipe his tears away without much success. "Don't tell me to bathe. I… I can't even see a fucking bathtub."

That one was so fucking embarrassing. He didn't look up to see the expressions any of the Wolves were wearing.

"Sometimes… Sometimes I can handle, not always, being alone. Or going out without Geralt. …Being surrounded by strangers… Don't do well with aggression."

"Fuck. That one is going to be hard once Lambert arrives," Eskel muttered, rubbing at his scars.

"I'm sorry…" Jaskier mumbled.

"Not your fault," Geralt said. "I'll punch his teeth in if it's the only way to get him lay off."

"You will not," Vesemir said with an unimpressed look before focusing on Jaskier again. "What might we expect if you're triggered?"

"...Panic attacks like when I woke up…" Jaskier said between stifled sobs. It was impossible to keep them in anymore. At least he could breathe. "Flashbacks. Turning unresponsive. If… if those happen and Geralt isn't with me could you please get him? Tell me to list things around me or, or, tell I'm safe?"

He immediately needed to backtrack, needed to make absolutely sure everyone knew they could just continue as always, didn't have to do anything. He shouldn't have asked. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for being such a bother, for burdening you. For asking for that. You don't have to, honestly. Just ignore me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Jaskier, stop. You're getting stuck in a loop," Geralt said firmly, making Jaskier slap a hand over his mouth in an attempt to keep the words in.

Neither Vesemir or Eskel were saying anything yet.

"You will at least get me if nothing else," Geralt said seriously.

"You'll hear Jaskier's heart often beat slightly faster than is usual for a human, it's not dangerous. You'll also smell fear but it's not because he's actually afraid of you as a person. Both are anxiety. He startles easily so try to deliberately make some noise when approaching him. You will hear him deal with nightmares during nights, don't come to check if something is wrong," Geralt continued. "He'll tire easily, you'll respect that. He'll also have bouts of depression. Speaking and eating might be hard sometimes."

It was strange, hearing Geralt give also a very Witcher specific information. Jaskier knew he was currently giving a prime example of how his heart sounded when feeling highly anxious. And how his fear smelled.

Fuck but he was an utter wreck.

At least everything would be out in the open. It was necessary since he'd stay here for months. Besides, Geralt's family deserved to know what kind of a disaster they were hosting.

If they agreed to host him at all.

It still was hard to remember this talk was for a good reason when all he wanted was for the floor to open up and swallow him. Couldn't stop himself from shaking or clutching his beads like they were a lifeline.

"...Sorry…" Jaskier whispered, not being able to stop the word.

"It's good you told this right away," Vesemir said solemnly after they had sat in near silence for a while.

"You will respect Jaskier's boundaries or keep the fuck away from him," Geralt said forcefully. "It's a big keep. You'll manage."

"...Please don't. This is your home, I'll make sure not to get in your way," Jaskier mumbled. He was so incredibly exhausted again. Exhausted and even more scared.

"Neither should be necessary," Vesemir said, sharing a look with Geralt and Eskel. "Jaskier, you're a guest here and will be treated as one. This isn't the first time outsiders have spent the winter with us."

"Thank you. I'm sorry." Shit. He really was stuck in the never-ending apologizing loop.

"Questions?" Geralt asked after giving a tired sigh.

"Should we prepare a guest room or are you staying with Geralt?" Eskel asked, looking at Jaskier.

It was polite of him to check even though the answer was obvious.

"No need." Jaskier shook his head.

"You'll carry a spare mattress for me," Geralt commanded, sounding sure it'd happen.

"Or I could tie it to you and you can drag it by yourself," Eskel countered easily.

"You can debate that elsewhere. We should let Jaskier rest. One doesn't almost freeze and go gallivanting the next day," Vesemir said, getting up. "Keep yourself constantly warm, Jaskier."

"I will. Thank you," Jaskier said, grateful the conversation was clearly finished for now. He didn't want to start crying again in front of everyone. Once was more than enough. "Thank you for letting me stay."

"Of course you're welcome here. It's good to see Geralt has found happiness. It's a rare thing for a Witcher," Vesemir said with a warm smile and left.

Geralt wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to do with Vesemir's declaration.

So he ignored it.

"Jaskier, eat and lay down again. Vesemir is right, you need to rest," Geralt said. "I'll stay with you."

"Mmhmm," Jaskier hummed.

"It was nice to meet you properly, Jaskier," Eskel said and started to walk away.

"You too," Jaskier said, voice breaking.

"Geralt, can I talk to you?" Eskel whispered, far too quiet for Jaskier to hear.

"Later," Geralt said just as quietly, not looking away from Jaskier.

"Jaskier, how do you feel?" Geralt asked once Eskel had left, trying to shove his constant worry down.

"Exhausted. That was… difficult,"Jaskier said, avoiding his eyes.

"Jaskier, you did great. I mean it," Geralt said, hoping Jaskier would believe him. "I know how fucking hard it's for you to talk about that. And you did it with people who to you are strangers."

That slim hope was smashed when Jaskier shook his head, fighting against renewing tears and trembling.

Geralt wished he could take him into his arms and never let go.

Maybe part of it was possible. "Do you want a hug? Hold hands?"

"No. ...Can't…" Jaskier murmured.

"That's fine," Geralt said calmly. He hadn't actually even expected it, not after what he had done. "Jaskier, you do know there's nothing to be ashamed of, right?"

He didn't. Geralt knew that.

He'd just have to repeat it until Jaskier would accept it.

"Anything I can do?" Geralt asked. He felt so useless again, only observing how Jaskier fought to keep himself together.

His breathing was starting to catch.

"Jaskier, you're safe. Look at me," Geralt said immediately. "You're showing early signs of a panic attack. Focus on your breathing. Feel the beads under your fingers."

"Mmmm." It was clear Jaskier was doing his best to follow the instructions.

It still took some time before Geralt was satisfied it wouldn't get worse, not right now at least. Should be safe to stop coaxing him out of it.

"Start eating," Geralt said instead, making Jaskier finally lift his gaze from the floor.

"What?" Jaskier asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

"Eat. Eskel brought you food."

"Oh. Right," Jaskier said, blinking at the forgotten bowl before looking frantically around. "I forgot to thank him for it."

"He'll live. Do it next time you see him," Geralt drawled, knowing Eskel was within earshot.

And what a weird conversation this had to be to him.

There wasn't anything else to do than observe Jaskier while he slowly ate so Geralt did exactly that, trying to figure out if there was anything he could do to help. Not much, he had to admit. Mostly Jaskier just needed to stay warm, rest, and get familiar enough with the others and the keep itself to start feeling safe. And take some time to fully regain trust in him. Geralt hoped that it'd happen despite not being deserving. Jaskier had demonstrated time after time being able to truly forgive him for crossing his boundaries, knowing it was done only under duress. It was incredible how vast Jaskier's heart was.

They still should talk about what happened in depth later but for now he could find balm for Jaskier to use to treat his lips and the areas on his face and fingers that had gotten frostnip. They'd soon start flaking like sunburns.

It was fucking lucky nothing had advanced into frostbite. Those could have done permanent damage.

"Jaskier, I should be here when you wake up. Even if not, I'll be within an earshot. I'm just going to get balm for your skin and catch up with Eskel briefly," Geralt said, satisfied when Jaskier laid back down after finishing eating. "It's safe to sleep here and I'll stay with you for a while."

"Thanks," Jaskier murmured, eyes already closing. "...Night."

"It's noon."

"...Noon, night, sleep time..." Jaskier wrapped himself tighter into the furs and fell asleep almost immediately, not even frayed nerves able to overcome the exhaustion.

Geralt really wished he could brush his fingers against the pale cheeks and smooth away the small furrow between Jaskier's brows. Maybe one day.

After making sure Jaskier had slipped into a deep slumber Geralt got up and walked as quietly as he could to where he knew Eskel was waiting for him.

"How's he doing?" Eskel asked seriously and handed him a drink once Geralt sat down next to him on the bench.

"You heard us," Geralt said.

"I did," Eskel agreed. "What happened, Geralt?"

"None of your fucking business," Geralt snapped.

"Don't growl at me, asshole," Eskel said unimpressed before pinning Geralt with a concerned look. "I know you won't tell me what went down but what _happened?_ " 

Geralt took a long drink before saying anything. "I was too slow. Too fucking stupid thinking there was more time. Failed and Jaskier is the one paying the price."

"You're many things Geralt but stupid isn't one of them. Idiot and a moron, absolutely. Stupid? No," Eskel said, making Geralt scoff derisively.

"It's the truth," Eskel said calmly.

"I got distracted by a single stab wound," Geralt muttered, staring into his beer.

"Well aimed?"

"Effective."

"Thought you'd have more time to recuperate?"

"Yeah."

"Jaskier is still alive, Geralt. Doesn't sound like a complete failure."

"Hmmm."

"Killed the monster?"

"Made it too fast," Geralt grunted, tightening his grip on the tankard. The bastard king hadn't deserved a clean death.

"Dead is dead," Eskel said before they lapsed into silence.

It was calming to simply sit with him, to know he was understood without longer explanations. It was finally starting to feel like he was home again now that the fear of losing Jaskier was disappearing.

"Fuck, it's good to see you, Eskel," Geralt said, pulling his brother into a one-armed hug as not to spill their ales.

"You too, Wolf." Eskel smiled, hugging him back. "Not how I imagined the reunion to go, though."

"Dreamed about it often?"

"Every night," Eskel deadpanned.

"What else have you been up to aside from your fucking disturbing fantasizing?" Geralt asked.

"Nothing as dramatic as you surely." Eskel shrugged. "Monsters, traveling, shipwreck."

"Shipwreck?" Geralt said surprised, freezing just before taking a drink.

"Tell you about it later. Right now I want to know what the fuck finally dragged you out of your denial," Eskel announced.

For a moment Geralt just stared at Eskel to see if he'd drop the question. Clearly he wouldn't, not with the way Eskel simply kept staring unwaveringly back at him.

"Realized I'd do anything to make him happy," Geralt grunted, feeling embarrassed as hell. There was no fucking way he'd add having also suddenly realized just how handsome, how beautiful, Jaskier was and how he had very kissable looking lips. To the point of distracting.

"Geralt, I'm honestly so happy for you," Eskel said with a soft smile.

"Hmmm."

Not wanting Eskel to add any more comments Geralt got up abruptly. "I'm going to get balm for Jaskier's skin. Go take care of that mattress, Eskel."

"Sure." Eskel nodded, also getting up.

"Don't ask me," Geralt said seriously, looking him in the eye.

"I won't. If Jaskier wants me to know he'll tell me himself," Eskel promised, taking the tankards and headed toward the kitchen.

Geralt knew Eskel had a good idea of what had happened anyway.

Geralt wasn't surprised when Vesemir came to him while he was browsing through ointments for something appropriate.

"This one," Vesemir said, reaching for a jar unerringly the moment he stopped by Geralt's side.

"Thanks."

"You brought an interesting companion with you, Geralt," Vesemir started. "I was actually starting to wonder how many more years it would take you to finally bring Jaskier. Eskel is right, you have been talking about him for a long time and quite in depth."

"Hmmm."

Had he really talked about Jaskier that much? Then again, the bard did accompany him often and for long periods of time each year. It was impossible to not mention him.

"I think you made the right decision to come here together instead of separating for the winter. From what Jaskier told us, it sounds like he's highly dependent on you," Vesemir said seriously.

"He is," Geralt agreed. There was no denying it.

"Have you been the only one helping him?"

"We stayed at an inn for a few weeks. Brajan, the innkeeper, and his family were huge help. Jaskier had a chance to recover there a lot," Geralt said with a flash of gratitude for the family. "Things did get a bit harder again while we traveled since he didn't have time to get used to the surroundings or people around us and was constantly tired."

"That at least won't be a problem here," Vesemir said before taking a moment to study him. "Jaskier's triggers are very telling but I'd like you to confirm my deduction, Geralt. Was Jaskier raped?"

Geralt ground his teeth together, trying to decide what to say. It wasn't his place to share but… "Didn't get that far."

"I'm glad for that small mercy," Vesemir sighed. "Whatever happened clearly affected him deeply."

"I won't tell you what Jaskier survived," Geralt said seriously, "That's his choice and I will not take it away from him."

Never.

"I understand." Vesemir nodded solemnly. "But when you're ready, come talk to me about what you went through, Geralt. Jaskier isn't the only one affected. You're not alone anymore, let us help."

"I…" Geralt wasn't sure of what to say. "Thanks, Vesemir."

"Take your time, Geralt. We have the whole winter ahead of us," Vesemir said almost softly before switching to a brisk tone. "Now, take that ointment and return to Jaskier's side like you're itching to do."

Geralt nodded and did exactly that.

He was pleased to find Jaskier still asleep and burrowed underneath the furs. He needed to keep himself warm. With that thought Geralt carefully walked around Jaskier to stoke the fire and inspect the huge meticulously constructed pile of firewood. Mostly pine and good amount of birch, only little spruce. Good. Satisfied, Geralt moved to the chair he had occupied earlier and settled to wait.

Sooner than Geralt would have liked Jaskier let out a scared noise and sat up abruptly.

"Don't touch me!" Jaskier growled and slapped empty air, apparently still half asleep.

"I won't," Geralt said, surprised. It wasn't the first time Jaskier had woken up with aggression but it was rare. Usually he still was experiencing the fear when waking up after a nightmare.

"Huh?" Jaskier blinked, apparently only now noticing him.

"It was a dream, Jaskier," Geralt said evenly. "You're at Kaer Morhen."

"Did I hit you?"

"Your arms aren't four feet long," Geralt snorted.

"Yes, right," Jaskier mumbled as he ran his hands over his face only to wince.

"Here, for your skin. Frostnips tend to behave kind of similar to sunburns," Geralt said, lobbing the jar gently in front of Jaskier. There was tension in his shoulders that warned Geralt that getting closer wasn't welcomed. Didn't matter that Jaskier wasn't saying anything about it.

"Thanks, Geralt," Jaskier said and unscrewed the jar to take a sniff. "Wow, it doesn't stink. Are you sure it'll work without the stench?"

As Geralt refused to answer, Jaskier dipped his finger into the ointment and started to gently spread it onto his face.

"Is this safe to use for lips?" Jaskier asked.

"Don't eat it but licking your lips is fine," Geralt said, "You do tend to poke the tip of your tongue out when concentrating."

Jaskier didn't reply, just dapped the balm onto his lips. Only after pocketing the small jar on Geralt's urging did he speak again, "Could you show me around?"

"Sure, I'll give you a tour of the living spaces." Outdoors and the more derelict areas could wait.

"Great."

Geralt wanted to help Jaskier regain his balance as he stood up, unsteady at first on legs that had to be aching and tired. Instead Geralt just got up with the help of his crutches, not drawing attention to having noticed the brief moment.

"This is the main hall," Geralt said, "We tend to spend time together here, hence the seating area and the dinner table. Decided long ago to partly section this area from the rest of the hall to help with the heating."

And to not have to see the destruction.

"Mind going to the kitchen next to return that bowl? Although, Eskel might be there. We can skip it if you don't want to see anyone," Geralt said.

"It's fine. I need to thank him," Jaskier said.

"Hmmm."

As Geralt had thought, Eskel was in the kitchen preparing the rabbits he had caught yesterday.

"Hello," Eskel said, turning to look at them as they entered. "Feeling better, Jaskier?"

"Hi. Yeah, I do," Jaskier said quietly, fidgeting with his necklace. "Thank you. For the food. And lending me your clothes yesterday, helping in general."

"It's fine. I'm glad I could do something," Eskel said easily. "You can put that bowl over there."

Listening to them, Geralt migrated to peer into the pot sitting next to the rabbits. Raw carrots and potatoes. Nothing interesting.

"What are you going to make from those?" Geralt asked anyway, gesturing at the ingredients.

"Boil them, roast the rabbits," Eskel said, glancing at him.

"Hmmm."

"If it doesn't meet your standards, you're welcome to skip the dinner."

"Hmmm."

Geralt could see Jaskier watching them nervously, probably trying to get a read on their relationship and Eskel's mannerisms.

Getting back on track, Geralt nodded toward a closed door. "That leads to a pantry and has stairs going down to a cellar.

"Giving a tour?" Eskel asked.

"Yes. Let's go find something more interesting, Jaskier," Geralt said, heading to the door they had entered from.

"Bye," Jaskier said and hurried after Geralt, careful to stay just out of arm reach.

There weren't many other relevant rooms to point out on the ground floor so it didn't take long for Geralt to lead them up steep stairs.

"It's easy to get lost here if you're not familiar with the keep so avoid wandering around," Geralt said as they took yet another turn.

"As if I even could walk around alone," Jaskier huffed, voice somewhere between frustrated and amused.

It was true. Jaskier wouldn't be roaming the keep without him any time soon and not because of the possibility of getting lost. It still had to be pointed out. Geralt had no plans to let Jaskier get lost on the off-chance he managed to tame his anxiety before learning the layout.

Entering a new room, Geralt was glad to hear a small delighted gasp from Jaskier.

"The library," Geralt said, holding back a smile. "Vesemir has saved each book he's managed to salvage and keeps bringing new ones too."

"I don't know if there's anything you like," Geralt added, realizing the subjects might not be interesting to the bard.

"I know for sure there will be," Jaskier said, already scanning the titles. "I have studied much more than just music and you know I'm interested in the monster lore and all that alchemy you do."

Shy of touching a book, Jaskier turned to look at Geralt. "Is it really okay for me to read these?"

"Go ahead. Just don't use them as kindling and it's fine."

"You didn't have to remind me about that poor songbook, Geralt," Jaskier said, distracted by browsing the book he had taken out of the shelf.

"Ready to continue?" Geralt asked, ignoring the comment.

"Sure." Jaskier returned to him, carrying the book he had selected. Geralt was slightly disappointed he couldn't see the title.

After pointing out a few rather meaningless rooms and the others' bedrooms Geralt stepped into his.

"This is mine. We'll be staying here," he said, pleased to see Eskel had at some point taken care of lugging a spare mattress next to the bed and brought their bags and Jaskier's lute case.

"It's nice," Jaskier said, looking around curiously.

Geralt was sure it was nowhere close to what Jaskier would actually deem nice if he were to get a permanent residence of his own. For one, Geralt knew the room was far too sparse for Jaskier's tastes. Nothing colorful or any decorations to personalize the space since pelts and furs probably didn't count. Just a couple of chests and a shelf with miscellaneous possessions and a wardrobe. A large table and a chair -why were there two chairs?- in front of it. A currently cold fireplace, and a nightstand next to the bed.

"You can unpack. There's plenty of space for you," Geralt said, moving to place firewood on the hearth. Better to warm the room up right away than wait until they'd settle in for the night.

"Any skeletons in your closet?" Jaskier teased as he opened the wardrobe to hang his clothes after depositing the book on the table.

"No. They're all outside," Geralt said, causing Jaskier to give an amused sound.

Right. It had been snowy and Jaskier had been almost unconscious. He hadn't seen the bones or the armors and weapons, wouldn't be making light of it if he had.

"Jaskier, I'm serious. Try not to joke about that here," Geralt advised, "The remains of the people who died in the attack are still circling the fortress."

Those that hadn't yet been completely eaten or moved by animals for some reason at least.

"Oh. I'm sorry," Jaskier said, sounding stricken by the revelation.

"It's fine. You didn't know," Geralt said, lighting the fire with a quick _Igni_ , "It's not a very usual practice."

The fortress really was a veritable maze, Jaskier thought as he trailed after Geralt back to the main hall for dinner. As if the twists and turns hadn't been enough, he had spotted also staircases leading nowhere and corridors ending in collapsed dead-ends. It'd take some time to learn to navigate the place properly.

It'd apparently also take some time to stop being afraid of Vesemir.

Jaskier really wished he could remember what was making him so wary of the old Witcher. A solid guess wasn't the same as knowing. But he wasn't ready to broach the subject with Vesemir. Or ask Eskel what he wanted in return for having lent his clothing. Honestly, he wasn't ready to talk about anything even remotely personal again to neither Vesemir or Eskel for now. Just being able to talk with them at all would be a win.

"Evening," Vesemir said as they took seats on the other side of the table.

"Evening," Jaskier echoed, averting his eyes and fidgeting with the beads hanging around his neck.

The silence was oppressive.

Jaskier was sure it was just him since both Witchers seemed perfectly content just sitting without saying anything. It wasn't a second too early when Eskel arrived with the food.

"Have you settled in yet, Jaskier?" Vesemir asked.

"Uhhh, yeah. Geralt gave me a tour," Jaskier said quietly, annoyed with himself for not having full control of his voice.

"That's good. You should avoid exploring alone without more experience. Some parts are dangerously unstable," Vesemir said.

This time Jaskier didn't feel like pointing out not being able to walk around without Geralt. Not yet at least, not before he had had more time to familiarize himself with everything and everyone. How long it'd take was anyone's guess.

"I'll be careful," Jaskier said instead, focusing intensely on cutting the piece of rabbit on his plate to have an excuse to not look up.

"Geralt, you're cooking tomorrow," Eskel declared. "Let's start the chore rotation."

"Hmmm."

"Chore rotation?" Jaskier asked despite himself and hoping it'd be something he could participate in and make himself useful instead of a leech.

"Plenty to do to keep this place standing and no one wants to be stuck with one daily job for the whole winter so we swap them regularly," Eskel explained. "You're welcome to join in if you want to."

"Yes. Yes please," Jaskier agreed sincerely.

"Great. Just tag along with Geralt and he'll show you the ropes." Eskel smiled.

"Will do."

Knowing there'd be something concrete to do to help was lifting some of the weight off Jaskier's shoulders. The dinner was even going better than he had expected. Not that the lack of animosity should be surprising. Neither Vesemir nor Eskel had given any signs of such behavior.

Jaskier was vaguely aware of the Witchers talking to each other but he didn't have the necessary focus to actually follow the conversation. If there was something important Geralt would either draw his attention or tell him later.

Not that it'd make him appear less rude.

Being unable to hold back a wide yawn that silenced the table made Jaskier feel even ruder. He was sure his cheeks were flaming bright red as everyone turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry," Jaskier said hastily, "I'm not bored. It's just… been a long day."

Please stop staring and go back to talking.

"Let's go upstairs," Geralt said casually. "It's getting late anyway."

"No need. I'm sure you want to keep catching up," Jaskier protested immediately, trying to shove his tiredness down. He didn't want to tear Geralt away from his family he hadn't seen since the previous winter.

"We have months to do so," Geralt said, grabbing his crutches and standing up. "Let's go."

"Go. You need rest after almost freezing," Vesemir said with a nod.

"Sleep well," Eskel added.

"Thank you. You too," Jaskier said before following Geralt to his, _their_ , room. It shouldn't feel strange being treated with basic courtesy but it still was throwing him slightly off-balance.

Hopefully it was just because everything was currently so unfamiliar. Things should get easier once he had had time to acclimate. It was frustrating that Geralt was right about him needing stability. Jaskier dearly wished it wasn't so come spring and he could again enjoy being constantly on the move, roaming around the Continent like always.

"Take the bed," Geralt said once he entered the room after giving Jaskier time to change.

"No, it's yours," Jaskier protested, hands on his hips. It was bad enough he always used them when they stayed at inns.

In response Geralt simply moved faster than anyone with a busted ankle was supposed to be able to and flopped down onto the spare mattress.

"Are you ten? Jaskier asked incredulously.

"Take the bed," Geralt repeated and stretched lazyly, looking like he was in no hurry to get up.

"Have you grown an aversion to beds?" Jaskier huffed, giving in and moving to sit cross-legged on the bed.

It did give a nice view of Geralt.

"No. I just want you to be comfortable."

"I'm not made of glass," Jaskier said softly.

"I know." Geralt nodded, expression serious. "You're fucking strong, Jaskier."

Such a sweet sentiment.

"Geralt, you don't have to lie in an attempt to make me feel better," Jaskier sighed, starting to fidget with his beads.

"I'm not," Geralt said sharply and sat up.

"Mmmm."

"I'm not lying to you, Jaskier," Geralt repeated. "You keep fighting, keep recovering. That takes strength."

Not knowing what to say, Jaskier shook his head.

"Jaskier, I'm sorry," Geralt said unexpectedly. "I wish I didn't have to undress you."

"...I know it was necessary…" Jaskier whispered. "I just…"

Fucking hate it. Fear it. Feel like you breached my boundaries, kicked a hole into my trust. Need some time to patch it up.

"Don't bite your nails," Geralt said, sounding alarmed.

"Fuck," Jaskier cursed, starting to inspect the bitten nail. Not much had happened, just a tiny piece missing.

There was a deep frown on Geralt's face.

"How badly stressed are you?" Geralt asked, looking like he too wanted to check the damage.

"...Overwhelmed…?" Jaskier mumbled, finally recognizing the urge to bite his nails for what it was. "This is… a lot. New people, a new place to stay in. Yesterday. All the traveling."

"Hmmm."

"Guess I just need an adjustment period," Jaskier said, clutching the beads to be sure of where his hands were.

"Take as long as you need," Geralt said, sounding sincere. "No one will blame you for getting used to everything at your own pace."

"I don't want to keep you away from your family, Geralt," Jaskier said, feeling guilty.

"You aren't," Geralt said. "Jaskier, we can retreat any time you want to or you can decide to simply not engage in what's going on even if you feel like staying. There isn't some specific way you have to act here."

"...Thanks." The reassurance did help a bit.

Which reminded Jaskier that Geralt needed reassurances of his own.

"Geralt, I'm not angry at you nor do I resent you. I forgive you," Jaskier said, hoping Geralt would believe him. "I know you wouldn't touch, let alone undress, me without permission if it wasn't absolutely necessary. Thank you for saving me."

"Jaskier-"

"Shhh, I'm talking," Jaskier shushed before continuing, tangling and untangling his beads. "It hurts but it's not your fault, Geralt. I just need some time. I'll try not to shut you out this time while I sort out my feelings. Let me know if I do, okay?"

"...Sure."

"Communicate with me, Geralt. Tell me if something is wrong or I take something too far," Jaskier stressed, hoping Geralt would do so instead of bearing everything silently. He didn't have much faith in it. "But… Could you please not ask to touch me until I do so to you?"

It felt shitty, not knowing how else to regain some sense of control. Regain some trust that he could affect things, had a say in what would happen to him.

"I'm sorry," Jaskier murmured, looking away.

"Jaskier, I understand," Geralt said softly, drawing Jaskier's eyes on him again. "Thank you."

"You have nothing to thank me for, Geralt," Jaskier sighed.

"I do," Geralt said evenly. "You. I'm grateful for you and your fucking ridiculous boundless heart."

"Geralt," Jaskier breathed, leaning forward until they were almost nose to nose. "I love you."

"Jaskier," Geralt said in turn, eyes warm.

"Good night, dear." Jaskier smiled and blew a kiss, reveling in the expressions that flickered rapidly on Geralt's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time to start settling down for the winter...! And next chapter our missing Witcher will make his appearance. :D
> 
> Did you know it hurts like hell when frostnip starts thawing? Because it does! Not surprising though since your cells are literally already frozen at that stage, just not a deep layer. I really hope you'll never have to test it out...! Just trust me on this. It's not fun times.


	5. Chapter 5

"Since when have you known how to bake bread?" Jaskier asked incredulously as he watched Geralt measure ingredients into a large bowl.

"Since always," Geralt said, starting to knead the dough. "Make yourself useful and start peeling those turnips, Jaskier."

"You never told me that you know the secrets of bread," Jaskier said, grabbing a knife and a turnip as prompted.

"Why would I bake on the Path?" Geralt scoffed. "There's better things to do."

"I bet if you had told Brajan that you know how to, he'd have let you. They could have sold customers a limited edition of the Witcher Bread," Jaskier said before pausing. "Do you want me to also dice the turnips?"

"I'll never understand what the fuck goes on in your head, Jaskier," Geralt said. "And yeah."

"Many things, dear heart, many things," Jaskier sighed, lips twitching when Geralt accidentally slammed his hand against the countertop.

A well-slept night stretching into late morning truly could make a difference. No more fear, only anxiety. It might be a thin veneer but it should be enough as long as things stayed calm.

"You must let them sell novelty bread baked by you next time we visit," Jaskier continued. "No, actually, I must taste your baking first. Just because you know how to do something doesn't mean it'll be good."

"My cooking hasn't killed you yet," Geralt grumbled.

"Yet," Jaskier echoed cheerily.

The sudden domesticity of their noon was doing funny things to his heart. It should be illegal how lovely Geralt looked with his hair in a ponytail and sleeves rolled up to keep them out of the dough. He was even wearing an apron in an attempt to keep his black attire black despite the flour. _An apron_.

There was a streak of flour on Geralt's cheek.

Jaskier wanted to wipe it away.

Instead he stabbed a turnip.

Hands washed and dough left to rise under a kitchen towel, Geralt started on the onions. "Want me to show you around the outside today?"

"Oh, yes please," Jaskier said with feeling. "The quicker I get used to this place the better."

"Hmmm."

"Geralt, what if…" Jaskier wasn't sure how to articulate the question to not make it sound offensive.

"Yes?"

"I know you keep saying I don't have to worry but… What if I make everyone hate me, dislike at least? I know I'm a lot even normally let alone now," Jaskier said, studiously avoiding looking at Geralt. "They'll be stuck with me for months and I probably can't tone myself down. It'll get tiresome to all of you."

"Jaskier-"

"It's not like Vesemir or Eskel have made me feel unwelcomed!" Jaskier added quickly. "The opposite in fact. I just…"

"Jaskier, you aren't too much," Geralt said firmly, moving to face him. "I know things are still hard but I mean it. You aren't nor will be a burden or an inconvenience, no matter how well or badly you fare."

There Geralt went again with his words. How he knew the right things to say, Jaskier had no idea. Especially when he didn't even know himself what he needed to hear until Geralt said it.

"Thank you, Geralt." Everything felt a little easier. A little lighter.

"Jaskier, you- you do know I…" Geralt swallowed, clearly struggling with his words. "You know I …love… you just as you are, right?"

_Oh._

How could one man be so perfect?

"I love you too, Geralt. So very much," Jaskier said from the bottom of his heart, stepping closer and wishing he could kiss him. Touch at all. But all he could was look into Geralt's eyes and offer a small sincere smile.

"You're beautiful," Geralt blurted out only to whirl around, grab a crutch and the sack of flour, and practically flee to the cellar to place it away.

"And you're gorgeous," Jaskier called out after him.

"Fuck you!"

"You can't run from the truth!"

"Shut up, bard," Geralt grumbled, stomping back to the kitchen. Looking over their lunch prep he untied his apron. "Let's go outside while the bread rises. I'll show you around."

"I'd like that." Jaskier nodded, abandoning the already abandoned turnips.

Clutching his cloak tighter around himself, Jaskier wondered if the day was absolutely freezing or if his ability to regulate body heat was still screwed up. Probably the latter, Geralt wouldn't have led him outside if it actually was as cold as a Povissian corpse in a snowdrift.

"We use this for training the most," Geralt said, gesturing at the large sectioned off area with low walls and a ceiling. "Easy to keep most of the snow away."

It wasn't a surprise that plenty of the outside areas of the fortress were or had been dedicated for different kinds of training grounds. Archery, sword fighting, weird contraptions that apparently also were meant for sword practice. Although, Jaskier had no idea how a "windmill", like Geralt had introduced it, was supposed to work for it. Or most of the other ones pointed out either. But there'd be the whole winter to see them in use. Jaskier had no doubt that the snow and ice wouldn't deter any of the Witchers.

The amount of perfectly normal areas shouldn't have come as a surprise considering Kaer Morhen was a remote fortress that had to have some self-sufficiency yet they still made Jaskier pause.

He hadn't expected there to be a large garden or a row of currently inactive beehives.

And definitely not–

"Geralt? Why is there a goat staring at us on top of a pile of rubble?"

"Hmmm?" Geralt turned to look at the direction Jaskier was pointing to. "That's just Lil' Bleater."

"Just Lil' Bleater?" Jaskier asked, raising his eyebrows.

"She's Eskel's. There's a couple more goats too. They're easier to keep than cows. We have chickens too," Geralt explained. "Vesemir stays here most of the time and if he leaves for long he just butchers the animals for meat beforehand and brings new ones with him. Except for Lil' Bleater. That one is practically sacred and knows how to fend for herself anyway. If she dies, she dies, but killing her is out of question."

"Huh." That was frankly adorable of Eskel, keeping a pet goat. Echoing his thoughts, Jaskier added, "That's adorable."

"She's a menace," Geralt grumbled despite the fond edge in his tone.

As if to protest the insult, Lil' Bleater gave a loud bleat and jumped away.

"You scared her. How dare you, Geralt?" Jaskier gasped dramatically.

"She has heard worse. Stables next?"

"Yes please. I already miss Roach," Jaskier said.

"Roach is doing just fine without you brushing her daily," Geralt said, leading them toward the outer wall.

"I know." He really did. It wasn't as if he was needed.

Suddenly Geralt perked up and started limping faster.

"Lambert is arriving," Geralt said as an explanation, making Jaskier's anxiety spike up.

They were all here then.

At least he was fully conscious this time for the first meeting. It'd be an improvement in itself. The thought didn't help much.

The others seemed to also have been close by since they too arrived in the courtyard to wait for the last Wolf. Jaskier too could hear the sound of hooves now.

"Jaskier, you shouldn't stay outside for long. You'll probably be more susceptible to cold than usual for some time. Especially the areas where you had frostnips," Vesemir said as a greeting as he stopped on the opposite side of Geralt.

"I won't. Geralt was just showing me around," Jaskier said quietly, feeling rude for not looking at the old Witcher.

He had barely had time to end the sentence when a rider entered the courtyard, horse laden with sacks and bags that probably held more provisions for the winter.

"A welcoming committee? You sure know how to make a man feel special," Lambert said before dismounting and zeroing in on Jaskier. "And who the fuck are you?"

The hostile tone made Jaskier want to retreat immediately or at least step behind Geralt. Steeling himself he stayed where he was.

"...I'm Jaskier." It would have been nice not to sound so subdued and hesitant. Maybe he should be glad to get the words out at all.

"Afraid your bed would feel cold without your bard warming it, Geralt?" Lambert asked carelessly, making Jaskier take a step back and his heart to drop.

"Shut the fuck up, Lambert!" Geralt growled immediately and probably would have stalked up to Lambert if Vesemir hadn't grabbed hold of him. " _Never_ talk about Jaskier like that, you bastard."

"Lambert," Vesemir barked. "Jaskier is a guest here and you will treat him with courtesy."

"Stop picking fights the moment you arrive," Eskel added, voice heavy with disapproval.

There was a flash of genuine confusion on Lambert's face before it was masked underneath a defensive sneer. "What the fuck has crawled into your asses and died?"

Jaskier wished he could find his voice to diffuse the situation. It wasn't as if Lambert had said something that would normally even remotely hurt him. It was his own fucked up brain making him scared and want to run. Jaskier wasn't sure at all if this was a better way to meet Lambert than if he was half-frozen.

It was only as Geralt tensed up even more that Jaskier managed to whisper, "...Geralt…"

The effect was immediate.

"Jaskier? Are you alright?" Geralt asked, turning to him completely ignoring Lambert.

"...Yeah…" If you didn't count being afraid again and his heart wanting to burst out of his chest with its rapid beating.

"Do you want to leave?"

Geralt looked so concerned.

"...Yeah…" He really, really, did. Needed to actually.

Without a delay Geralt started to herd Jaskier away from the others, heading back to the kitchen.

The warmth of it and the fact that it was just them again were helping. The chair he sat in was solid. The beads under his fingers familiar. Geralt was staying silent and just observed, letting him gather some equilibrium in peace. Jaskier hated that he couldn't shove the baseless fear down. It had burst out again and didn't want to go away. The fright of the comment and the terror of having been undressed just shook hands and merged together to create a fresh layer on top of the ever present fear.

"...I hate this," Jaskier muttered, focusing on the feel of the beads he was fidgeting with. "I hate that a throwaway comment makes me unravel. It's pathetic."

There was a sharp inhale from Geralt.

Not letting him say anything, Jaskier continued, "I messed up. I keep doing that. First I arrive half-dead and then I cause a fight. Why the fuck would anyone want me to stay?"

"Jaskier, stop," Geralt ground out. "Nothing you said is true."

"Don't come closer!" Jaskier yelped when Geralt took a step toward him.

For a brief moment they stared at each other, both wide eyed and surprised by the reaction. Then Geralt took a slow step backward, looking like he was trying to make himself as unthreatening as possible.

The action pierced right through Jaskier's heart.

"I'm sorry, Geralt. I don't… I don't know what that was," Jaskier said quietly. "I really don't."

"It's fine. I should know better than to approach you without asking," Geralt said, voice carefully neutral.

"No, no, no, Geralt. That's not it. You didn't do anything wrong," Jaskier said immediately. "Absolutely nothing. You don't have to ask permission for everything. You don't. I just… reacted badly. I'm sorry."

"Jaskier, I know you're currently wary of me. Maybe it's not as bad as last time I broke your trust but you are," Geralt said. "It's fine, I deserve it. And you need time, said it yourself yesterday, to make peace with my actions."

"Geralt, you do _not_ deserve it. It was a shitty situation but you did the right thing. You acted correctly, Geralt," Jaskier said resolutely. "I thank you for it."

It'd be great if his nerves would accept it too.

"Hnn."

"Geralt, I have forgiven you. Please forgive yourself too," Jaskier said, looking deep into Geralt's eyes.

Geralt was the first to avert his gaze.

"Could you bring me water?" Jaskier asked suddenly, knowing doing something concrete to help made Geralt feel better. Maybe he'd understand the request was an attempt to patch things up.

"Sure," Geralt said, some of the tension leaving him.

Jaskier was glad Geralt didn't retreat after handing him the water, just stayed standing silently next to him.

"We should seek Lambert out. Explain the situation to him too," Jaskier said, rolling the now empty cup between his hands.

"We should," Geralt agreed.

"Don't bite his head off, Geralt. He didn't have any context," Jaskier said. After a brief moment of hesitation he added, "Could you… Geralt, could you take care of it, explaining? I don't know if I can talk about it again so soon. …It was only yesterday… I'll chime in if needed but…"

The mere idea of going over everything was enough to make it feel like his throat was constricting.

"If it really is what you want," Geralt said seriously, studying Jaskier critically. "I don't think it's my place to tell others but I will do it if you're sure."

"I am." Jaskier nodded. "And I'm right there with you, you won't be breaking my confidence. I just don't trust myself to get all the words out. It's hard going over the triggers. …To think about what happened…"

To be confronted with the summary of just how fucked up he was.

Not to mention that he didn't trust or actually know the others yet. It was all second-hand trust borrowed from Geralt.

"I know it is," Geralt said. "Let's finish cooking and we can do it after lunch."

Geralt wasn't surprised that Jaskier was just staring at the food on the table instead of partaking. He could feel him practically vibrating with nerves, Lambert's prickly silence or Eskel's awkward attempts at conversation definitely not helping.

Didn't stop Geralt from wanting to shove food down his throat. But, well, he'd just make sure Jaskier would eat afterwards.

About time to get this done and over with too.

"We already explained things to Vesemir and Eskel but you too need to know," Geralt said, staring at Lambert. "Don't interrupt me while I'm doing so."

"Let's hear it," Lambert said, staring right back at him defiantly.

Jaskier still wasn't saying anything, just shifted uncomfortably and drew his cloak tighter around himself. Geralt wondered if he was cold or needed another layer of clothing as a protection.

Geralt was almost impressed that Lambert did manage not to interrupt despite clearly almost saying something more than once.

"Well, fuck," Lambert said with feeling the moment Geralt finished.

"...I'm sorry…" Jaskier mumbled, voice thick with tears that weren't yet falling. It was the first thing he had said since leaving the kitchen.

"Don't apologize," Geralt said reflexively.

"Sorry…"

Geralt had to take a deep breath to not snap at Jaskier to stop saying that. He knew it was almost like an involuntary reaction and Jaskier would just keep apologizing for apologizing if pressed. Better to let it go this time despite there being absolutely nothing to be sorry for.

"Look, bard, I know I can be an asshole but I'll try to tone it down when it comes to you," Lambert said. "No promises though."

"Mmhmm," Jaskier hummed, just continuing fidgeting.

Time to leave the situation.

"You better," Geralt said. "Let's go, Jaskier."

"...Bye…" Jaskier whispered barely audibly and followed him.

But it was an actual word which was good regardless of how faint it was.

The moment they entered their room Jaskier went to grab his weighted blanket and curl on the bed underneath it, clearly spent. Geralt wished there was a way to lend him energy, to make things easier for him. He knew how hard it was for Jaskier to go over his triggers and this time he had had to do it twice in such a short time period, opening up to people he didn't know or trust. Not having talked this time didn't diminish the fact.

"Are you alright?" Geralt asked, moving slowly to sit on the spare mattress, placing his crutches to lean against the wall.

A small head shake was his answer.

"Jaskier, you did good. Now it's over too, no need to repeat the briefing. They know what to avoid, know how to help if you have an attack and I'm not with you," Geralt said.

This time he didn't get a response, just a stifled sob.

"It's okay to make noise. They won't hear you nor would you disturb them anyway. This place is made for Witchers, the walls are thick enough to accommodate for that," Geralt continued. "It's true what I said about them occasionally hearing the aftermath of nightmares since they'll be closer but it's not like we hear everything that goes on here. To have the slightest chance of that we'd have to take a potion."

It seemed to reassure Jaskier as he stopped trying to bite each noise down, letting himself cry in earnest. Fuck those strangers who had made him afraid of making sounds of distress when they weren't in the wilderness. It seemed to be so fucking hard for Jaskier not to internalize negative comments and actions.

Each sob and wounded sound shot right through Geralt but he was more than aware that this wasn't about his own comfort, him at all. There was nothing he could do but let Jaskier find some release in crying.

Eventually Jaskier seemed to exhaust his tears, sobs turning into sniffles to silence and breathing calming down.

"Better?" Geralt asked, craning his head in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Jaskier's face.

It turned out to be futile as Jaskier just curled up tighter, burying his face in the pillow and dragging the blanket up to his ears.

Shutting him out.

Jaskier had told him to mention when that happened.

Geralt stayed silent.

It wasn't a big thing, just Jaskier being spent and needing to be left alone. Maybe he would try to bring it up if Jaskier kept repeating the behavior. It wasn't as if he was doing it on purpose.

Probably.

Hopefully.

And even if he was, it was fine. Jaskier had all the rights to shun him after what he had done, after how badly it had to be hurting him. Forgiven or not, Geralt was sure Jaskier wouldn't want him close for a long time. Perhaps it also included emotionally.

Refusing to let out a weary sigh, Geralt stood up and moved to sit by the desk. Not having anything better to do he grabbed the book Jaskier had borrowed from the library to start reading it while waiting.

An introductory level book to alchemy.

Jaskier's interest in such things really was baffling. It wasn't as if he could use it for songs or anything. Who the fuck would want to listen to a song listing ingredients and chemical reactions?

But Geralt couldn't deny that there was something strangely nostalgic about reading the book, last time having been decades ago. Nothing interesting in it with how basic and simply explained everything was but at least it made the hours slightly less boring. He had gotten through almost all of the book before Jaskier finally sat up, apparently ready to face the world again.

"...Hi," Jaskier mumbled and took out the jar of balm to start applying it.

"Feeling better?" Geralt tried again, hoping for an answer this time.

"Sort of," Jaskier said, wincing as he dabbed his nose.

That was something at least.

"How ugly do I look?" Jaskier asked, taking Geralt aback.

"What?"

"My face. How bad do the frostnipped areas look?" Jaskier said with an unhappy frown, inspecting his dry fingers.

"They're flaking," Geralt said bluntly, not seeing the point of sugarcoating it. "Don't scratch when the itching starts."

"Wonderful," Jaskier sighed. "Absolutely wonderful."

"Your skin will heal back to normal in a couple of days," Geralt said.

"Mmhmm."

"Jaskier, are you really doing better?" Geralt asked, concerned about the dull look in his eyes and the drooping posture.

"Yeah. What time is it?" Jaskier said promptly, squaring his shoulders. "Should we go prepare dinner or is it too early?"

"...We can go do it if you want to," Geralt said slowly, feeling uneasy about the obviously faked enthusiasm. "But we don't have to. Someone else can take care of it."

"Maybe so but I'd like to finish our duties for the day," Jaskier said, heading toward the door.

Feeling like he was indulging a bad idea, Geralt led them back to the kitchen, wondering if he was doing the right thing.

Jaskier felt like an extremely rude and jumpy ghost haunting Kaer Morhen. It had been a couple of days and he still couldn't bring himself to interact with the others for long, managing only short and meaningless conversations before having to retreat. Couldn't engage normally with even Geralt. It was maddening. Everyone else had to be frustrated with him too.

At least things were becoming familiar.

It didn't keep Jaskier from tensing up when he spotted Vesemir walking toward him and Geralt.

"Am I interrupting?" Vesemir asked, observing the halted gwent game they had been in the middle of playing.

"No. Need something?" Geralt said.

"Jaskier, could I talk with you somewhere more private than here?" Vesemir said. "Geralt is welcome to join if you'd prefer him to come."

"...Of course," Jaskier said nervously, standing up and starting to fidget with his beads. At Geralt's inquisitive look he nodded and Geralt followed suit.

It didn't take long for them to arrive in Vesemir's private study and take seats. It still was more than enough time for Jaskier to get more and more anxious.

But nothing would happen.

And Geralt was with him.

Everything was fine.

"Have you settled in yet, Jaskier? If there's anything you need, just let us know and we'll see what we can do," Vesemir said, sounding sincere.

"I'm starting to," Jaskier said, avoiding his eyes. "And no, there's nothing."

"I'm glad. And have the boys behaved themselves?"

It was funny hearing deadly Witchers referred like that.

"They've been more than accommodating." Jaskier nodded.

"Good, good. I won't have to have a talk with them then," Vesemir said, looking pleased.

Jaskier really wished he'd get to the actual point soon. There was no reason why they couldn't have had this chat in the main hall's seating area.

"Jaskier, I'd like to try to clear the air between us if it's fine with you," Vesemir said seriously. "I do remember what was told but I think your wariness around me is something more than anxiety."

Well, there came the reason.

"I…" Jaskier trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"We don't have to have this conversation. You have a choice, Jaskier," Vesemir reassured him, making Jaskier relax the tiniest bit.

A quick glance at Geralt showed that he too was looking more relaxed.

"I think we should talk," Jaskier said quietly, fidgeting with the beads. "It's… I don't actually remember what might have happened to cause it but…"

"Yes?" Vesemir prompted gently when Jaskier had stayed silent for a while.

"...But I'm afraid," Jaskier choked out, feeling ashamed of his reaction toward the old Witcher. He hadn't given any reason to feel like that.

"I understand." Vesemir nodded.

Nice to know one of them did.

"Jaskier, how much do you remember about arriving here?" Vesemir asked.

"Not much," Jaskier said, looking at the stone floor. "Eskel and maybe you."

"Anything about the warming process?"

Jaskier took a moment to think about it but had to shake his head, unable to recall anything relevant.

"I was the one ordering you to be undressed, Jaskier. You were technically conscious despite being very disoriented," Vesemir said. "You tried to comply but slipped into a dissociative state almost immediately which isn't surprising considering your triggers and the general condition you were in."

"Dissociative?" Jaskier asked, confused by the word.

"It's the term for what you described as turning unresponsive. Although, that isn't the only possible manifestation of it," Vesemir explained.

"Oh."

It was nice to have a proper word for it. To know it was common enough to actually have one.

"Jaskier, do you think your fear of me might be caused by the order?" Vesemir asked seriously, staying completely still, just looking at him.

"...Yeah…" Jaskier mumbled, gripped by the urge to bite his nails. Instead he continued tangling and untangling his beads and checked Geralt was still sitting in the chair next to him. As if he'd have disappeared. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for," Vesemir said firmly. "It's an understandable reaction, especially considering what you must have lived through."

"What I… How do you know?" Jaskier asked, taken aback and anxiety rising.

"I don't. Not exactly, not even remotely," Vesemir said. "Your triggers just are very telling, giving a good idea of what might have happened. The general picture at least."

"Ah." That was true. Didn't help with the anxiety.

He wasn't ready to share.

At all.

"You don't have to tell me." Vesemir's voice cut through Jaskier's thoughts before they could start spiraling. "I'll be here if you want to talk but there's no obligation to do so."

"...Thanks…" It was hard to get the word out.

Geralt was still staying silent.

Jaskier wished he'd say something. Anything.

Instead it was Vesemir talking again, "Is there something I can do to help you get more comfortable around me?"

"I don't know…" Jaskier whispered, voice catching with the knowledge of being completely useless, not having any answers. His hands had started to shake.

"I hope it'll ease your mind to hear I wouldn't act so unless absolutely necessary to your well-being. There is no other reason I'd do such a thing," Vesemir said solemnly. His concerned frown was almost identical to Geralt's despite there being no blood relation.

Perhaps Geralt's was a learned mannerism.

It was an endearing thought.

One that somehow made the fear recede a bit. Maybe it was the concrete proof of him truly being Geralt's father-figure, a father in all but blood. Swordplay couldn't have been the only thing that Geralt had learned from him.

"It does." Jaskier nodded, realizing his right leg had been bouncing nervously through the conversation only now that it stopped.

"I'm glad," Vesemir said with a small smile. Looking at Geralt he added, "Your ankle should be healed enough by tomorrow for you to join Eskel and Lambert in repairing things, Geralt. Time to get you out of the kitchen."

And stop idling around, Jaskier mentally added. Geralt hadn't done much more than kept him company so far. It had to be maddening to him, not being able to be as active as usual. Jaskier was determined to stop clinging to Geralt as tightly as he had been during the past few days, while also simultaneously needing space. He could do it, give Geralt his freedom back. Partly at least. Jaskier was perfectly aware he was too much of a wreck to stop inconveniencing him.

"Sure." Geralt nodded.

"Now, I don't intend to keep you longer unless there's something you'd like to talk about," Vesemir said, addressing them both.

"No, thank you, Vesemir," Jaskier said, feeling better.

"I don't have anything either," Geralt said, starting to lead Jaskier out of the room.

It seemed like Geralt was heading back to the main hall so Jaskier stopped. "Geralt? Could we go back to our room? I'd like to talk with you."

It was about time too.

"What did you want to talk about?" Geralt asked as he closed the door.

"The fear. I'm sick of it," Jaskier said, moving to take a seat in one of the chairs. "I'm so tired of being constantly afraid."

He really, really, was. Asleep or awake, the insidious feeling seemed to find its way in no matter what. The winter would be cold enough without it turning his bones into ice.

"I can't just will it away, but…" Jaskier trailed off, gesturing Geralt to take the other chair.

"I can't make it disappear," Geralt said.

"I know and it's not your job in the first place," Jaskier said seriously. "You can't fix me nor do I want you to try to do the impossible. I'm not your responsibility, Geralt."

Jaskier wasn't exactly sure what Geralt's expression meant but he wasn't replying, just let him continue.

"I'm not waiting for you to save me from myself."

"I would," Geralt said.

"I know. But we both also know you can't save me from this. Only help. And Geralt, you help so, so much. More than you can ever imagine," Jaskier said, voice trembling. "I'm so sorry I keep getting afraid of you. You don't deserve it."

"Jaskier, you're not doing anything wrong. I keep forcing you into situations that you shouldn't have to deal with," Geralt said evenly, doing his best to continue eye contact despite the way Jaskier tried to shy away from it. "I have broken your trust time and time again, hurt you. It's normal for you to be frightened by me."

"It's not!" Jaskier snapped, only to blanch and slap a hand over his mouth.

He shouldn't have done that.

Shouldn't protest.

Definitely not yell.

"Breath," Geralt said gently.

It made Jaskier realize he really had stopped doing so.

"You're safe, Jaskier. Nothing is wrong."

"Ye-yeah," Jaskier said after a few gulps of air. "Right. Sorry. Startled myself."

He was good at that. Who needs outside forces when he was doing such a wonderful job by himself?

"Hmmm."

"Geralt, being scared is absurd. I've never been afraid of you, not before Marden. And I'm still not, not exactly. Not as a person. But I'm… I'm afraid of being hurt," Jaskier said, closing his burning eyes and focusing on the feeling of the beads against his fingertips. "Being afraid of the pain… It makes me sometimes scared of you. You _know_ me, could easily tear me apart."

"I'm sorry I keep building walls around myself and my heart," Jaskier finished, having to quickly wipe escaping tears away.

"If distance is what you want, I'll give it to you, Jaskier," Geralt said solemnly.

Of course, _of course_ , Geralt had to interpret it like that.

"No. No, Geralt. I don't want distance. I _want to be close to you_. Without any walls or fears or subconscious doubts. I _want to_ be with you in any way you'd have me, for as long as you'll grant it," Jaskier said, locking eyes again. He needed Geralt to see the truth of the words. "I _want you_. _I want your love_. I _want everything_ you're willing to freely share. I _want to_ give all of me to you. I'm greedy with love. I _want to_ give it, I _want to_ receive it."

"Jaskier…" Geralt's voice was a mere breath.

"Just because I'm afraid of getting hurt doesn't mean I don't love you. I do. I love you with every fiber of my being, Geralt. Never doubt that," Jaskier said, leaning slightly forward and trying to keep his voice from cracking.

"...I fucking love you too, you bastard…" Geralt mumbled so low Jaskier wasn't exactly sure those were the words used.

Such a Geralt way of saying it.

"I know you do, you show it everyday," Jaskier said with a small fleeting smile.

Geralt only hummed, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

"If I could choose, I would never again be scared of anything you do, Geralt. Would make this lingering fear disappear," Jaskier said, getting back on topic. "But since it doesn't work like that, I guess I just need to keep tackling this step by step."

"Little victories, right?" Jaskier said, reaching out to Geralt. "May I hold your hand?"

Such a small request shouldn't be enough to make someone beam with happiness.

"Yes, Jaskier, yes," Geralt said, sounding almost reverent as he gently took Jaskier's hand in his.

"Geralt, you do know my reactions aren't your fault, don't you? I'm just… stuck. It's so hard to separate what I expect to happen from what's a realistic possibility," Jaskier continued, tightening his grip slightly.

"Hmmm."

So he didn't believe it.

Jaskier wondered if he should try to make Geralt see the truth, but the thought of continuing the conversation was too exhausting. And Geralt looked so happy currently, holding hands. It'd be a shame to take that away from him. There hadn't been much happiness in Geralt's life.

Better to just enjoy the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many important talks...! And Geralt said "I love you" TWICE????


	6. Chapter 6

"Vesemir finally kicked you out of the kitchen?" Lambert greeted them as Geralt and Jaskier neared the broken wall he and Eskel were repairing.

"No," Geralt huffed, unwilling to admit it was true despite the more polite wording Vesemir had used.

"True or not, I'm happy with it. Your cooking is shit." Lambert shrugged and laid another stone on the wall.

"Make your own food if mine isn't up to your standards."

"Lambert's is better than yours and Vesemir's the best," Eskel interjected before focusing on Jaskier. "Hello, Jaskier. Planning to join in on the repairs?"

"I don't know anything about masonry but if there's something I can do…" Jaskier said nervously, fiddling with the scarf he had borrowed from Geralt.

Or rather, with the scarf that had been shoved at him. Didn't matter that it was a warm morning, snow melting into slush and water dripping down from the eaves. Geralt was determined not to let Jaskier get even chilly, not after what had happened.

"We'll need more mortar soon," Eskel said. "Geralt could show you how to mix it."

"Would you?" Jaskier asked hopefully, turning to Geralt.

"Sure." Geralt nodded.

Jaskier really seemed eager for something to do. It would be endearing if Geralt wasn't sure that it was fueled by desperation not to be a burden. Jaskier had vocalized that sentiment far too often for it to be shrugged off as a temporary feeling. There was plenty to do around the keep but maybe Jaskier would figure out at some point that his worth wasn't tied to whether or not he could work.

Looking around Geralt spotted all necessary components for the mortar in front of the wall, just waiting to be mixed together. There was even water left over from the previous batch.

"How soon do you need it?" Geralt asked, looking up at his brothers standing on a scaffold.

As an answer Lambert tossed a large empty bucket, aiming at his face.

"Use your words," Geralt grumbled, catching it.

"Ha! That's thick coming from you," Lambert jibed.

Deciding the comment wasn't worthy of a reply, Geralt moved to the sacks holding lime and sand.

"Mortar is easy to make. You just need slaked lime, sand, and water," Geralt said, starting to pour the lime into the bucket. "Then you mix them and it's ready for use."

"Uh-huh." Jaskier nodded, looking more engaged than Geralt had seen anyone be when being explained how mortar worked.

Sometimes Jaskier seemed to be a veritable sponge for information. Whether or not he retained it seemed however to be completely dependent on if he deemed it interesting. Or maybe Jaskier just tended to willfully ignore the knowledge he had. That seemed like the more likely option. As smart as Jaskier was, the bard really could be an utter idiot.

"Mind hefting stones up for us? This would go way faster if we didn't have to get down for them," Eskel asked, looking down at the dwindling pile on the scaffold when Geralt returned the bucket.

Geralt took a quick glance at the stones sitting in wheelbarrows and Jaskier before answering, "Fine with me."

"What about you?" Geralt checked with Jaskier despite knowing the answer and taking a few steps downward on the ladder to make it easier for Jaskier to hand him stones.

Maybe Jaskier would have the brains to not even try to handle the big ones.

"Yeah," Jaskier said, inspecting the pile and thankfully selecting one of the smaller stones.

Not the lightest activity but it wasn't as if Jaskier had to do it until the wall was repaired. Nor would he. Geralt had no plans letting him push himself too hard. And this would probably be a pretty good way for Jaskier to get more familiar with Eskel and Lambert. They'd have physical distance without it being awkward while doing something useful. The faster Jaskier started to feel safe here, the better.

Geralt couldn't lie about also being glad to have a chance to spend some more time with his brothers.

"Thanks," Eskel said, shooting a smile at them before focusing on the wall again.

They had been working in silence for a couple of minute when Lambert spoke up, "So, bard, what the fuck did you do to make Geralt finally break out of his denial?"

Why did they suddenly have to be so fucking hungry for gossip?

"...I sang to him," Jaskier said, looking startled by being addressed.

"And it worked? After all these years?" Lambert asked, sounding both strangely gleeful and surprised. "Had to be one hell of a song."

"I guess…?" Jaskier said hesitantly.

"I'd like to hear it someday," Eskel said, sounding just as gleeful at the revelation as Lambert.

Bastards.

Traitors.

They weren't even working anymore.

"I… Okay," Jaskier promised.

It'd be nice to hear Jaskier sing again. It hadn't happened since the performance at the inn. Geralt wasn't exactly sure if he should be worried about the lack of music or not.

"I don't believe for a second one song was enough. Spill," Lambert said.

"I did give him a flower crown to wear too," Jaskier said, sounding more confident. There was even a slight teasing lilt in his voice.

Traitor.

Jaskier was the worst traitor of them all.

"Flowers and a song? Didn't know you're such a romantic, Wolf," Eskel managed to say despite laughing loudly.

Lambert was practically howling in his mirth.

Geralt wanted to throw them with the stone he was holding.

"He is." Jaskier nodded seriously. "A perfect gentleman."

"You better give all the dirt on Geralt, Jaskier," Lambert said once he had gotten himself under control again.

"There's the whole winter to do so," Jaskier said, a lot of the tension in his posture bleeding out at Lambert's implied acceptance of him.

Geralt wanted to stay annoyed at them. He couldn't. Not with the way things were going. This was what he had hoped despite the topic being far from what he would prefer. But what was a little sacrifice of pride compared to Jaskier starting to relax?

"You done making fun of me?" Geralt asked, slamming the stone onto the scaffold in emphasis.

"Never," Eskel said calmly.

Definitely should have thrown the stone at him.

With a scoff Geralt lowered himself to grab another one from Jaskier's hands to continue working.

Jaskier really didn't want to get up as he slowly woke up from his nap, feeling tired despite having slept calmly. It was as if all the noon's activities had drained him dry. He should be used to it. It was practically how his life just was now. Do little something, be tired for the rest of the day. It was frustrating.

"Geralt? Sit with me?" Jaskier mumbled without opening his eyes and patting the bed frame.

There were steps and Geralt's voice. "On the bed?"

"Next to it…?" Jaskier murmured, filled with both fondness for Geralt and regret that he needed to ask such a thing.

Jaskier really wished he was over the forced contact and undressing enough to share the bed in the most innocent way again. But he couldn't. It didn't feel safe yet. It wasn't as if he didn't trust Geralt. It was his own fucked up brain he didn't trust to keep away from plunging into dark turbulent waters.

"Was the work too much?" Geralt asked.

"It was nice spending some time with Eskel and Lambert," Jaskier said, cracking his eyes open finally.

Geralt was probably about to say something about the non-answer so Jaskier quickly continued, "I'm not as wary of them as before. Same with Vesemir. I'm getting closer to feeling at ease here. Sorry it's taking me so long."

It really was taking ages compared to when they had been staying in Brajan's inn. Maybe there was something about opening up to a stranger who had no expectations compared to people who were –or in this case would be– familiar, who had pre-existing notions of him. He just really wanted Geralt's family to like him and why would they if he suddenly just poured every fucked up thing in his head onto them? Not that being jumpy and scared were bettering the other Witchers' opinion of him either.

"Jaskier, there's no deadline. Besides, you're still working through that clusterfuck of an arrival." Geralt said, sounding sure of it.

"...Yeah."

He really, really was.

"It'll get easier. Just because you're having a bit of a setback doesn't mean everything is, I don't know, destroyed or something," Geralt said, eyes intense and worried.

"Thanks," Jaskier said, taking a deep breath and inched his right hand closer to Geralt. "Could we- Would you hold my hand?"

"Of course," Geralt said, linking their fingers.

It felt safe.

Loving.

Things really were getting easier again then like Geralt had said.

"I love you. You do know that, right?" Jaskier said, wishing he could summon a smile. Even a fleeting one.

"I do," Geralt grunted. For a second it seemed like he would continue but there were no further words.

Jaskier liked to think he had tried to say it back.

"Geralt, if you want to go spend time with your family, you can go do it. Don't let me hold you back," Jaskier said. "I think I can't get up yet but I'll be fine alone for a while."

"Are you sure?" Geralt asked, clearly conflicted.

"Yes. I'll be alright." It should be at least bearable.

"Do you remember the way to the main hall?" Geralt checked.

"Yeah. I won't get lost if I head there alone." Jaskier nodded.

"If you need me or anything at all go there. Or walk as far as you can and yell loudly. I should be able to hear you but can't promise it," Geralt said, squeezing his hand slightly tighter before letting go. "I'll be back in an hour or two."

"No need to hurry. Spend as much time with them as you want, Geralt," Jaskier said. "I think I might be able to walk there alone. It's not like there's strangers wandering around here. Just us five."

"I'll try to come down for dinner," he added. Outright promising it didn't feel right. There was a far too big of a chance that Geralt would have to come get him. Hopefully not but he didn't want to accidentally lie.

"Thanks," Geralt said, standing up and starting to head to the door.

"Don't thank me."

Geralt really, really shouldn't. Not for getting to spend time together with his family without him making things awkward.

Geralt did give a deep sigh but didn't press the issue, just said, "See you soon, Jaskier," before stepping out.

The room felt terribly empty and cold once the door clicked shut.

They hadn't been separated from each other much lately, having been on the road and then him needing Geralt's presence while familiarizing himself with life in Kaer Morhen. Mostly it had happened only when they had stayed at inns and Geralt had had to leave for hunts. A few times here while he was resting.

It was seriously time to start tackling the codependency issue again.

Sadly the knowledge didn't stop the creeping anxiety.

But it was fine.

It was safe.

Safer than any place they had stayed in so far.

There were no strangers, just the four Wolves.

And none of them would regard him as a whore or someone to simply bend over for free entertainment.

They really, definitely, absolutely, didn't. There was nothing to fear here.

With shaking hands Jaskier grabbed his weighted blanket and switched it for the current one. It was comforting. Familiar. Made it a little easier to ignore the lies his mind was spewing, a little easier to convince himself that it really was safe, a little easier to trust what he rationally knew to be the reality. Made things a little more bearable.

He knew it was safe here.

He knew.

He waited with a baited breath for someone to enter the room.

There were no footsteps.

The beads were familiar under Jaskier's fidgeting fingers as was the faint sound they made when they clicked against each other, moving back and forth on the string.

It was safe.

And Geralt deserved alone time with his family.

Jaskier wanted to go find him.

Eskel and Lambert were playing cards when Geralt joined them. He got barely glanced at before their current round was finished, Lambert winning it with far too much schadenfreude.

Not having to focus anymore, Lambert turned to look at Geralt who had sat down next to Eskel. "Ditched your bard?"

"He's _not mine_. Jaskier isn't anyone's," Geralt snapped with a deathly glare.

"Relax, it's a fucking turn of phrase," Lambert scoffed. "Just haven't seen you without him often so far."

"He's resting," Geralt said, mollified.

"Jaskier did look tired during lunch. Is he alright?" Eskel asked.

"I think so," Geralt said.

"You too look like you should go take a nap. I think your hair has gotten grayer since last winter," Lambert said.

"Very funny but worry about your own hair, Lambert," Geralt drawled, grabbing Eskel's tankard to take a swig.

"Lambert is right, though. Your eye bags are big enough to hold camping gear," Eskel said with a frown, snatching the drink back.

"No they aren't," Geralt huffed, crossing his arms.

"I'm serious. You look burned out," Eskel said, sharing a look with Lambert before getting up and moving to the seating area. "Come on, let's get more comfortable while talking."

"You're worrying over nothing. I'm fine," Geralt said.

"Are you? When's the last time you slept?" Eskel asked, voice full of doubt.

"Last night," Geralt said, utterly unimpressed.

"When's the last time your life didn't revolve around Jaskier?" Lambert asked in turn.

This was seriously starting to sound like a fucking interrogation.

"...Before," Geralt said begrudgingly.

There was that shared look again. It was irritating. They should cut it out.

"Riiiiight. And have you had any fucking time away from him?" Lambert continued.

"Yes! What the hell is up with you two?" Geralt snapped.

"Brotherly worry," Eskel said, pinning him with a sharp look. "Geralt, you look like you've been run over by a full caravan."

Geralt hated how their insistence was starting to crack him.

He was just fine. He was. He had to be the one to shoulder everything, to help Jaskier. He had to keep Jaskier from drowning in his pain. There wasn't time to think about himself. Neither did he need to.

He was going to tell that to them.

"I'm fucking exhausted," Geralt said instead.

"Knew it!" Lambert exclaimed.

He didn't have to sound so damn pleased.

"That what you wanted to hear? That I'm exhausted and don't actually have any idea what I'm doing?" Geralt asked, bowing to cradle his head with both hands.

"We wanted the truth," Eskel said evenly. "Geralt, you're home now. I know it's fucking hard for you but let us help."

"Not my call. Jaskier has to make the decision to open up to you." Geralt shook his head.

"It is but I was talking about _you_ ," Eskel said with a deep frown. "We're worried."

Jaskier needed to be the priority.

But it was strangely enticing to just let everything loose. Every fucking thing he couldn't talk with Jaskier.

"I'm not telling you what happened," Geralt said resolutely. That was non-negotiable.

"You already let me know that," Eskel said. "You think you failed. Talk about that one."

"Give us something to work with," Lambert added seriously.

Honestly, how much of a wreck did he look to elicit that kind of a reaction from Lambert?

"I did fail. Badly," Geralt said hesitantly. "I still keep failing Jaskier."

"Needing a little time to recover from a stab wound before killing whoever hurt Jaskier was a failure? Let's unpack that," Eskel said, tone booking no arguments.

Geralt had a feeling his brothers would keep tracking him down around the fortress if he walked away right now, not giving up before getting what they wanted. Should have known Eskel wouldn't be satisfied with that short conversation during the first day. And now he had roped Lambert into backing him up.

Fucking stubborn bastards.

"Why the fuck did you get stabbed?" Lambert asked, looking at Geralt judgmentaly.

"For fun," Geralt snapped before actually answering. "There were shit ton of guards at once."

"Did you fight alone or did you have help? Jaskier maybe?" Eskel asked.

Were they seriously going to do this step by step?

"Can he even fight?" Lambert interjected, sounding highly doubtful.

"He can –kind of– but Jaskier was shit-faced back then, no help at all," Geralt said, thinking about how Jaskier would just have run into Marden's arms to give himself up if he hadn't been busy throwing up all the wine he had drank. Not that he would have let Jaskier charge in even if he had been sober and willing to fight back.

"So you were overpowered by a small army. Sounds like something that'd happen to you." Lambert nodded. "What came next?"

"Got used as blackmail material and almost decapitated. Was thrown into the dungeon, sort of patched up, and then left bound there," Geralt said, ignoring the comment.

Eskel and Lambert were again sharing that irritating look.

"Geralt… Did you just hear yourself? Because it sounded like there really wasn't anything you could have done immediately," Eskel said evenly. "You were wounded and held captive in enemy territory."

"I shouldn't have left Jaskier alone with that bastard, with that _monster_!" Geralt growled. "I should have realized just how sick the bastard king was! That he would want to-!"

Neither Eskel nor Lambert batted even an eye at his outburst.

"I let Jaskier get hurt. I _keep_ hurting him," Geralt finished, voice getting quieter with each word.

It felt wrong baring his guilt and failures to others, letting anyone see weakness when he needed to be the unbreakable anchor. But Eskel was right, he was home among family. It was safe to let his guard down here.

"Jaskier doesn't seem to share the sentiment of being hurt by you," Eskel said.

"He does. We've talked about it-"

"You've _talked?_ " Lambert asked.

"Fuck off. We've talked about it, try to work on it. Jaskier just is an idiot with too much heart and keeps forgiving me," Geralt continued.

"You're the idiot. He's obviously disgustingly in love with you," Lambert said. "Who the fuck knows why."

Geralt sure didn't have the answer to that. What Jaskier saw in a foul-tempered mutant like him was beyond him.

"Geralt, trust me, it really does sound like you did all you could back then. Besides, you obviously got away and Jaskier is safe again. Stop blaming yourself," Eskel said, leaning toward Geralt. "We're made durable for fighting and killing but it doesn't mean we can do everything."

It was true. Geralt knew it was true. Witchers died fighting. Died from wounds. They weren't invincible despite all the mutations but he wasn't sure if the stab wound had been bad enough to warrant the momentary distraction it had caused. He should have shrugged it off, not paid any heed to the sudden pain.

"Stop your self-flagellation," Lambert ordered. "Your face is showing your damn martyr complex surging."

"Lambert is right. Stop wallowing, Geralt. What happened, happened, and now you need to focus on the present," Eskel said. Rubbing at his scars he continued, "We may not know how to help a rape victim but it doesn't mean we won't try to support Jaskier. And you. It's clear you're hurting with him, Geralt."

So they had reached the same conclusion as Vesemir had. Not that it was far from the truth.

"He wasn't raped. It…" Geralt trailed off, not knowing what to say. Explaining more felt like it'd be yet another fucking breach of Jaskier's trust.

"Oh. I thought… I mean, his triggers pointed right at it," Eskel too trailed off.

"Whether or not Jaskier got his ass pounded doesn't change the sentiment Eskel so prettily shared," Lambert said.

"Lambert!" both Geralt and Eskel snapped at the same time.

Geralt felt ready to strangle the youngest Witcher. It was a good thing Eskel gripped his bicep almost hard enough to bruise to keep him seated.

"Say that one more time and I'll rip your head off," Geralt growled.

"Cool it, you two," Eskel said, sounding long-suffering. "Lambert, have some tact. Geralt, don't rise to the bait."

"Unless he talks like that to Jaskier," he added, scowling at Lambert who just shifted to lounge more comfortably in his chair. "Then you're free to smack some sense into him."

"So, we've determined that Geralt is again drowning in his never-ending guilt-complex. What now?" Lambert said, ignoring the comment completely.

"Now you stop getting into my business," Geralt huffed.

"Hmmm, no."

"Lambert is right. You're not going to get off the hook. There's the whole winter ahead of us and you're not going to leave here in the spring still nursing that baseless guilt like it's your baby," Eskel said with conviction.

"I'm not–“

"Yes you are." Eskel didn't let Geralt finish.

"It's not baseless!" Geralt snapped, only to realize he had stepped right where Eskel had wanted him to. His brothers were looking far too smug about having gotten him to outright admit clinging to the guilty feeling. But it _wasn't_ baseless. He had failed.

"It is and you need to talk to Vesemir about it. I'm sure he'll actually know how to help Jaskier too. He must have dealt with or at least be familiar with aftereffects of an assault," Eskel said. "You said he wasn't raped but unless he or you completely deny it I'm going to think something like that happened. Geralt, I saw his reactions when you made sure he switched clothes and heard his panic attack and your conversations after it."

That was true. Eskel really had witnessed those.

"Not my decision to tell what happened," Geralt reiterated, deeming it the safest thing to say.

"I'm not asking you to." Eskel nodded. "Just promise to talk with Vesemir."

"Old man might be good for something for once," Lambert said.

"Fine," Geralt sighed.

"Good," Eskel said, patting Geralt's shoulder and finally moving out of his personal space.

The satisfied gesture made Geralt vaguely feel like he had just been treated like a dog who had done a good job. At least he hadn't been patted on his head.

"Someone go get me a drink. I deserve one after that shit you pulled," Geralt grumbled.

He was not going to tell them that he was feeling a bit lighter. It'd only encourage Eskel and Lambert, nosey bastards that they were.

"Nah. If anything, you should go get us drinks as a thanks for getting you talk," Lambert said, taking a long and pointed swig out of his tankard.

There probably wasn't enough ale left to make it worth stealing it out of Lambert's hand. Although it'd be fun. Especially as Lambert seemed to sense the threat, eyeing him suspiciously and holding the tankard tighter while shifting to sit properly instead of lounging to make protective maneuvers easier in case of an attack.

Before Geralt could make up his mind familiar steps drew his attention.

It didn't take long for Jaskier to enter the hall, eyes flicking nervously in an attempt to find any threats and heart beating anxiously. But he was walking around alone for the first time which was huge. He really was getting more comfortable here, starting to trust the safety of Kaer Morhen and its inhabitants.

"Jaskier?" Geralt called out, standing up. "Everything alright?"

In response Jaskier just hastened his steps until he was right in front of him.

"Jaskier?" Geralt tried again, looking in the wide and scared blue eyes.

"Can I hug you?" Jaskier whispered, voice trembling.

"Are you sure?" Geralt asked despite wanting to just scoop him into his arms and never let go.

"Yeah."

"Then yes, always." Geralt had barely finished when Jaskier hugged him, pressing himself close as if afraid he'd be yanked away. It was hard not to embrace Jaskier back but the request hadn't included a desire for reciprocation.

Geralt didn't have to see his brothers to know they were surprised.

It definitely must have seemed like the no touching rule included him too with the way the few times Jaskier had wanted contact had been in private. The willingness to seek physical comfort again was encouraging, even more so with the way Jaskier wasn't hesitant to do it in front of the others.

Geralt closed his eyes to simply bask in the closeness for a while.

He had missed it.

Geralt was warm and solid against him. Real and safe.

There was nowhere Jaskier would rather be.

"...Sorry…" Jaskier mumbled, feeling bad for having interrupted the Witchers.

"I have no fucking clue what you're apologizing for but I know it's unnecessary," Geralt said softer than the words themselves sounded like.

"Mmhmm."

"Is everything alright?" Geralt asked.

"...It is now." It really was so much better now that he was with Geralt again.

Didn't even matter that he was clinging to Geralt, almost trying to burrow into his chest, with all his feeble strength in front of Eskel and Lambert. They had heard about him being an utter wreck, so what if they kept seeing it too. It'd be inevitable anyway. And he simply couldn't let go of Geralt, would either have to be forcefully pried away or for Geralt to ask him to stop before that would happen. It felt like the fear would claim him again if he did so.

But he should soon. Probably a minute had passed since he had attached himself to Geralt. Reluctantly Jaskier unwound his arms and took a half-step back, not quite leaving Geralt's personal space since it didn't seem to bother him.

"Thanks," Jaskier said, voice back to steady. Everything felt steadier, easier again. Being separated just wasn't working yet.

Jaskier really hoped it would soon. He didn't want to stay so fucking dependent on Geralt. At least they had the time and chance to work on it again now. It would get better.

It had to.

"Hello, Jaskier. Want to join us?" Eskel asked when they had just stood motionless for a while.

"If I'm not bothering you…?" Jaskier said quietly.

"You're not. Take a seat," Eskel said with a small smile, gesturing at the empty chairs.

"Thank you," Jaskier said, moving to the farthest chair available.

Geralt sitting down between him and his brothers was reassuring. It shouldn't be. But it was. Hopefully that lingering unease too would disappear soon. There was nothing Geralt's family had done to deserve it. Maybe Geralt was right about it being a side effect of the terrible arrival they had had, that he just was having too much to process at once making everything slow as molasses.

At least it was better now after the noon they had spent. Having Lambert's acceptance helped a lot. Being addressed by his name instead of always as a bard made him feel more like a person, not some thing walking around. It wasn't as if he minded being called a bard, that was what he was, but after days of it being the only form of address it had started to feel more like an insult coming from the Witcher than a simple title.

"Thank you again for the help earlier, Jaskier," Eskel said. "Things were faster with you and Geralt moving the stones."

"It was nothing." Jaskier shook his head.

It really was. He hadn't been able to keep helping for long, having to leave the work for Geralt when even the smallest stones got too heavy to keep hefting upward for Geralt to grab after a while. And it wasn't as if they had needed new batches of mortar all the time.

"It helped," Eskel reiterated.

"You're a bard. Going to sing at some point?" Lambert asked.

Jaskier wasn't sure if the demanding edge in his tone was imagined or not.

"Jaskier doesn't have to if he doesn't want to," Geralt said immediately.

"Geralt, it's fine," Jaskier admonished him before answering. "I will. Just not tonight if it's okay…?"

"Sure." Lambert shrugged. "Your call. I'm not going to fucking force you to entertain us."

That wording was uncomfortable, far too close to what Marden had done. It did however clear the uncertainty if it had been a demand or not. If it had been, Jaskier knew he would have dashed to go get his lute to fulfill it right away.

"Thank you," Jaskier said in a small voice, starting to fidget with his beads. He saw Lambert looking at him strangely before lowering his eyes, not wanting to see any further reactions. He didn't want to witness new pieces of information being connected.

Geralt kept telling him that he had nothing to be ashamed of.

But he should have _known_. Seen through Marden. Fought back. Told Geralt immediately there was something wrong or not having invited him at all to accompany him. Should have just followed the king out of the feast so Geralt would have thought he just had found someone to have sex with and returned to the inn safe and sound.

Would even have ended up being the truth despite not wanting it.

"Jaskier?" Geralt's voice drew Jaskier back to present.

"Hmmm?" Apparently his words were lagging behind.

"Are you alright?"

"Mmhmm." Shit. Words. He needed words. "...Yeah…"

Slightly better.

Geralt was frowning deeply.

"...Yeah. Fine," Jaskier murmured, wishing everyone stopped observing him. "Just fine."

No one looked convinced but they did start talking again, leaving him be. It was enough.

It was even better once Vesemir brought the dinner and he managed to eat. Not as much as he should but enough to make Geralt's frown smooth away.

"Geralt, do you mind if I come sit next to you?" Jaskier asked, closing the alchemy book and looking at Geralt sitting on the spare mattress also reading.

"Of course not," Geralt said, looking up.

Without further prompting Jaskier rolled off the bed, landing on the mattress and making Geralt huff in amusement at his chosen method of moving.

"I miss you," Jaskier said once he was sitting against the wall only a hair's breadth away from Geralt.

"I'm right here," Geralt said, sounding baffled.

"I know and it's lovely. I just miss the closeness. The touches, hugs, kisses," Jaskier said. "I wish I could get to that point again already."

"Don't start pushing yourself to reach it. You would only hurt yourself trying," Geralt said seriously, frown knitting itself back in place on his brow. "And I want none of that unless it's sincere."

"I haven't forced myself, Geralt," Jaskier said softly. "What little I've been able to handle has been completely wanted."

"Good. Keep it up."

"I will." Jaskier nodded. "Actually… Could I lean on you? I'm not sure if I'm ready to be held but…"

"Then I just won't hold you," Geralt said. "Come here."

"Thanks," Jaskier sighed, moving to rest his head on Geralt's shoulder.

"Hmmm."

Geralt too sounded satisfied with the arrangement.

It felt so safe and warm to sit close like this. Letting out another deep sigh Jaskier shifted around for a while before finding a comfortable position that let him glue himself against Geralt's side. It still wasn't close enough. The need for touch was almost like a physical ache eating him from the inside. It had been so long since the last time he had been able to have physical contact as much as he needed or wanted.

Jaskier couldn't help but wonder if it was possible to get sick from a lack of touching other people.

"Thank you for inviting me here, Geralt. This means a lot to me," Jaskier said. "It can't have been an easy decision to make."

"It was," Geralt stated.

"What?"

"I knew straight away I wanted you to stay with me for the winter," Geralt said.

"Oh."

That was unexpected. How in the world could Geralt have been so sure about wanting to spend the winter with him, to share a completely new facet of his life? To introduce him to his family when he was such a wreck?

"Thank you for trusting me enough to let me come. It's a privilege," Jaskier said, closing his eyes. "I doubt many humans have walked in these echoing halls in decades."

"Hmmm."

"I hope you know I won't betray that trust. I'm not going to tell people how to reach Kaer Morhen or create lyrics that might compromise the safety of this place. I'd never do that."

"I know you wouldn't," Geralt said.

"That's good, really good," Jaskier murmured before failing to stifle a yawn. "Geralt, do you mind if I take a nap like this…?"

"If you want to get a crick in your neck then you're welcome to doze off," Geralt said. It sounded like he was smiling but Jaskier couldn't bother to open his eyes to confirm it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geralt talked...! And Jaskier walked around alone for the first time...!


	7. Chapter 7

The sun was barely rising when Jaskier followed Geralt out and to the stable, careful not to slip on ice that had formed during the night. He had already filled his quota for the winter –for the next five winters if not a lifetime– with that slip and tumble down the mountainside. The stable offered a lovely sanctuary from the perils of ice when they arrived. What Jaskier hadn't expected was loud bleating and Eskel being almost swamped by hungry goats trying to eat hay out of his arms.

"Morning," Eskel said unperturbed, just tossing the hay on the floor. "Ready to go get the horses in from the pasture?"

"Morning," Jaskier echoed, not sure what to do as Geralt went to pick up the halters and lead ropes.

"The first snowstorm is going to hit us in the evening. There's a lot to take care of before that so it's great to have your help," Eskel said, apparently not minding his quietness.

Then again, Eskel had known Geralt since childhood.

"I'm glad if I can be of any use," Jaskier said, fiddling with his cloak. "It wouldn't be fair if I just sat around when everyone else is pulling their weight."

There was an annoyed and predictable grumble from Geralt as he re-joined them, equipment slung over his shoulder. He should just agree to disagree with the issue. It might make him less cranky.

Tugging a woolen knit cap borrowed from Geralt down to cover his ears better and adjusting the scarf around his neck Jaskier followed the Witchers out of the fortress and down a small path he wouldn't even have spotted without help. It didn't take too long before they reached the large paddock.

Maybe the horses could tell it'd be storming soon with the way they were huddling together underneath a crop of trees where a broken cliffside was sheltering them on one side from the wind.

"Take care of Roach. We'll handle the others," Geralt said, handing him the familiar halter and lead.

With a nod Jaskier walked to Roach who greeted him by huffing warm air on his face. In return Jaskier gave her a peck on her velvety muzzle and fished out a sugar cube from his pocket to gift her. As Roach ate the cube happily, Jaskier placed the halter gently on her and connected the lead rope to it.

"You're getting to safety from that oncoming storm now. Much better to stay in the stable than brave it here," Jaskier murmured to Roach, petting her neck and watching Geralt and Eskel corral the other horses. "None of you deserve to stand in such terrible weather, freezing your ears off. It's definitely not fun, slowly turning into an icicle. You can trust me on that."

Pressing himself close to Roach Jaskier took a calming breath before speaking up. "Eskel? I should have asked earlier but what do you want in return for lending me your clothes and helping in general?"

It was more than time to get this done and over with. It'd just get worse the longer he waited, would surely keep accumulating interest. He shouldn't have been a coward and just have taken care of this immediately. Geralt probably would temper it if Eskel asked for too much but…

"Nothing. Why would I?" Eskel asked, sounding confused.

"Please, just tell me," Jaskier said quietly, taking a mitten off to card his fingers through Roach's mane in an attempt to calm himself.

"Jaskier, I don't want anything," Eskel said seriously. "You don't owe me."

"I used your shirt and cloak…" Jaskier shook his head, not sure how to explain the need to make sure there was nothing that could be held over him. "Inconvenienced you. It was my fault we even were in that situation."

"I would have helped anyone, without charge," Eskel said.

A glance at Geralt showed him standing still, observing them with a completely neutral expression. Jaskier wished he'd say something. It was good he didn't.

"I want nothing from you, Jaskier. Nothing," Eskel repeated, frowning deeply. "It's the truth. I'm not going to blackmail you because I gave you my help."

It was hard to believe. Really, really hard.

But Eskel hadn't done anything to deserve the mistrust, hadn't done anything to hint at having hidden intentions. Wanting anything from him. Wanting him.

And Geralt trusted him fully without conditions.

"Are you sure…?" Jaskier ventured hesitantly, afraid to believe but desperately wanting to.

"Yes."

"There's really nothing I can do or give?" Jaskier asked, knowing he had to be annoying Eskel with his insistence.

He couldn't stop.

"Jaskier, I promise there's nothing," Eskel said, somehow still looking patient.

"Oh…" Maybe it really was true. "I… Thank you."

"It's fine," Eskel said, offering a smile. "Feel free to ask for help anytime. I honestly don't mind."

"Thank you, really," Jaskier said with more conviction.

"You're welcome," Eskel said, warmth in his voice.

Jaskier had to disengage from the finishing conversation and just try to let everything sink in. He could feel part of himself violently fighting against the sentiment, trying to remind him of what had happened with the clothes he had bought with Marden's money. Of the attire he had been forced to change into. But this wasn't the same. At all. He knew it wasn't.

Roach's musk was familiar as Jaskier pressed his forehead against her neck. His fingers had grabbed a hold of her mane instead of carding through it. It worked as a counterpoint, grounding him to here and now. Roach was solid and real. Safe and warm. Familiar. Calming.

His fingers were cold.

"Jaskier? Ready to head back?" Geralt asked, making Jaskier focus on the world again.

Drag himself out of his head.

"...Yeah… Yeah." Jaskier nodded, prying his fingers away from Roach's mane to take a better hold of the lead rope instead. Only to briefly let go when he remembered that there was a reason why his fingers were freezing and that he could actually mend the situation.

"Great. Let's go," Geralt said, waiting for Eskel to start walking first before following with Vesemir's gelding.

"Thanks girl. You're the best," Jaskier whispered to Roach, grateful for her patience with him and all the literal clinging he did. "I mean it. You're so good to me, sweetheart."

The walk back to the keep was silent, only the snow and ice crunching underneath their feet and the horses huffing occasionally.

Having cleared the air with Eskel about the apparently one-sided problem had helped. A lot. It really was starting to feel safe here with Geralt's family. Maybe he still wasn't ready to fully trust them but it was hard for even Jaskier's anxiety to find reasons to think they were a threat. He was even almost feeling relaxed as they sat around the hearth as the snowstorm howled outside with vengeance.

Things were settling down.

He had really missed this feeling, the precious, fragile, calm.

Perhaps he could…

"I'll be right back," Jaskier said, getting up and drawing everyone's attention to himself.

"Where are you going?" Geralt asked, looking predictably surprised.

"Our room," Jaskier said, lighting up the small lantern that had been dedicated for his use. It wasn't as if Kaer Morhen's hallways were bathed in light, Witchers not bothered by the darkness. And there wasn't any sense in placing burning torches on the walls on the off-chance he might walk by. Much easier to just use a portable light source.

"Hmmm."

"Be right back," Jaskier repeated before hurrying away, afraid he'd otherwise give in and ask Geralt to walk with him.

He didn't need Geralt for everything.

He _did not._

He was perfectly capable of making his way from the main hall to their room and back alone, no matter what the growing anxiety was whispering.

It was safe here.

Still, it was a relief when he arrived in their room and could shut the door behind himself. After taking a few carefully measured breaths Jaskier walked to his lute case that had been untouched for far too long and took his lute out.

The polished wood underneath his fingertips and the familiar weight of it felt like coming home.

Jaskier hadn't realized just how badly he had missed music, not until now that one of the black voids inside of him was filling up again.

Lute retrieved, he set out in a brisk walk to get quickly back to the safety of the others.

Of Geralt.

But he could walk around alone and that was better than a few days ago.

"Decided to finally act like a bard, huh?" Lambert asked as Jaskier reached the firelight and headed back to his chair, placing the lute in his lap.

"Maybe," Jaskier said, focusing on tuning his lute.

"It has been far too long since the last time music filled these halls," Vesemir said. "Real music at least. Drunken singing and banging the table can't be counted."

"It's the highest form of art," Lambert declared. "Come on Jaskier, get on with it already and stop fiddling with the lute."

"Don't sing _Toss a Coin_ ," Geralt grunted, sounding fed up with the mere idea.

"Sing _Toss a Coin to Your Witcher_ ," Lambert countered immediately, flashing a grin with far too many teeth at Geralt.

"It would be nice to hear the song that started it all played by the original composer." Vesemir nodded.

"It was so strange the first time I heard it," Eskel said. "For a moment I thought there had to be something very wrong with my beer."

"Sorry, Geralt. Sounds like you've been outvoted," Jaskier said and stood up.

This wasn't nearly as nerve-wrecking as playing in an inn to a roomful of strangers. There was no tremble in his voice as he started or a need to swallow down a flight reaction. His fingers did feel a bit stiff and wooden but it was the lack of practice and not rising panic causing it. It was almost pleasant, giving a proper private performance. He hadn't done that since–

Jaskier froze, the song falling apart as he could almost see Marden staring at him with a glower full of possessiveness and anger from the chair he had abandoned.

He was so cold suddenly.

Maybe he was freezing to death again.

It sure felt like it.

"Jaskier, hey, Jaskier. Focus on me."

His hands were shaking.

"Should we–?"

"No. Stay back."

There wasn't enough air.

"Jaskier, you're safe. You're in Kaer Morhen, it's safe. Look around and tell me what you see. You're safe."

Geralt. That was Geralt.

"Slow breaths. You're safe. Tell me what's around us. Can you do that?"

"...Ge- Geralt…" It came out as more of a desperate gasp than a word.

"That's it. Focus on the present. Slow breaths, Jaskier. You're safe, just a panic attack."

Ah. Yes. Not freezing. Not suffocating.

Just the same old, same old.

Didn't make it much easier to try wrenching some control back, didn't make the immense weight crushing his chest disappear.

It took a few tries before Jaskier finally managed to time his breathing well enough to choke out words, doing his best to list what he saw around like Geralt kept prompting him to do. But having to remember what the objects were called and needing to form the syllables started to work, helping him slowly calm down and breathing even out.

"...Hi," Jaskier mumbled, letting Geralt know it was over again.

"Are you alright?" Geralt asked, looking incredibly worried.

Jaskier wanted to scoff. They both knew he wasn't alright.

They all knew.

Filled with dread Jaskier looked past Geralt at the other Witchers, not wanting to witness their disgust but unable not to check their reactions. Hearing about him having panic attacks wasn't the same as witnessing one. He should just leave, go away so he couldn't ruin their night with his inability to keep himself together. His feet were rooted to the spot. He couldn't move, just tremble and wipe his tears away as he waited for the words that would tear him apart.

No one was looking at him with disgust. Just varying degrees of worry, alarm, and confusion.

"Jaskier, did you hear me?" Geralt asked, drawing Jaskier's attention back to him.

"Mmhmm."

"Is there something we can do to help?" Vesemir asked, sounding sincerely worried.

"...No…" Jaskier managed to whisper. "...Thanks…"

"Want to leave?" Geralt asked.

"...Yeah. Please," Jaskier said. "I'm so sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for," Eskel said even before Geralt.

"Mmmm." There was. Breaking down in front of them. Not managing to finish even one song. Failing to do his job. Interrupting the evening. Alarming them.

"Jaskier, let's go," Geralt said before adding, "If you're ready."

Jaskier nodded, moving his lute into a better position and took a small step forward without lifting his gaze from the floor. He really did want to leave the situation. Quicker the better.

"Rest well. We'll see you later," Vesemir said, Eskel echoing the sentiment.

Jaskier wondered if Lambert's silence was because he had lost what little acceptance he had gained.

"Geralt, can I hold your hand…?" Jaskier asked barely audibly once they had little distance from the others. It felt silly, yearning to walk hand in hand back to their room. But the contact should help push everything away, let him focus easier on here and now instead of the unease churning in his gut.

"Of course," Geralt said, offering his hand for Jaskier to take at his own pace.

The physical contact really was grounding like Jaskier had hoped.

A spot of warmth in the cold that had settled in his bones again.

Once they had entered their room, Geralt turned to look at Jaskier, not letting go of him. "What do you need?"

"I don't know…?" Jaskier trailed off, looking around the room. The world was still muffled, his head stuffed with straw and wool.

"Do you want your tea?" Geralt asked, looking concerned.

He should be used to this by now, not act so worried each time. It wasn't as if having a panic attack was a big thing anymore, they were far too regular for Geralt to keep fretting over them.

"Sure." Jaskier shrugged. Drinking the herbal infusion wouldn't hurt at least.

After a brief contemplation Jaskier headed to sit on the floor, back securely against the cold wall and door in eyesight. No way for anyone to sneak up on him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Geralt asked as they waited for the tea to steep.

Not really.

"It's stupid," Jaskier mumbled, fidgeting with the beads. "Just realized that the last private performance was for Marden and Elaine. Can't really count the times I sang in Brajan's kitchen for the girls."

"Ah."

"Got sucked into the old fear, I guess," Jaskier said quietly. "Maybe I should be glad it didn't trigger a flashback. Those are the worst."

"Jaskier, it's not stupid to be thrown off by new things or for any other reason," Geralt said, bringing him the tea.

"Sit with me?" Jaskier requested, ignoring the words and taking the mug.

"Sure."

Having Geralt close and a steaming mug of tea in his hands were starting to relax Jaskier. The sense of safety was returning again.

There was honey in the tea.

It was a sweet gesture.

"I'm so tired of this," Jaskier said after they had sat in silence until he had finished drinking.

"I know," Geralt said, watching him. "But it'll keep getting better."

"I guess," Jaskier sighed.

A couple more minutes passed before Jaskier finally fully looked Geralt in the eye. "Could you hold me? I did think it through and I'm sure I want it."

"Then yes, always," Geralt said, worried lines around his eyes smoothing away as he opened his arms.

Curling against Geralt's chest and having his strong arms circle him so very gently made Jaskier suddenly want to cry again. He felt so loved, so protected.

"I'm fine. Good feelings," Jaskier sniffed when he felt Geralt start disengaging. "Love you."

"Hmmm." Geralt seemed satisfied with the explanation, settling down and not letting go.

"This means so much to me. You being willing to stay with me, letting me set the pace. Not pushing. I know I keep repeating myself but it's the truth and I want you to believe it," Jaskier said once he was sure opening his mouth wouldn't lead to crying. "Thank you for everything."

There was nothing Jaskier should thank him for. If anything, Geralt felt like he should thank Jaskier for trusting him so damn much. It never stopped astonishing him how vulnerable Jaskier allowed himself to be with him, sharing his thoughts and heart. Placing himself in his arms where he wouldn't have a chance of escaping if he decided to hold him down.

It had been proven.

And Jaskier had been physically stronger back then, not having had yet time to lose as much weight and muscle.

Yet here Jaskier was, curling against him without fear. Geralt wished he could give him a soft kiss but this was the second best thing, just sharing space and being close to each other. It was calming to feel Jaskier's heart beat slow and steady, no anxious racing.

But he didn't have the words to say all that so he just gave an acknowledging hum.

In response Jaskier gave a small sigh and pressed himself even more firmly against him.

It was difficult not to tighten his hold of him.

Geralt had no idea how long they stayed like that, just quietly co-existing and sharing the moment before Jaskier shifted to sit upright and looked at him.

"This will sound weird, but could you accompany me to the stairs leading down?" Jaskier asked.

He was right about it sounding strange.

"Sure?" Geralt said.

"Thanks," Jaskier said, going to get his lute and making Geralt even more intrigued about the request.

It was only as Jaskier sat down on the topmost stair and gently placed his lute in his lap that Geralt realized what he was planning.

Closing his eyes Jaskier gave the first strum, starting the annoyingly familiar song.

_"When a humble bard_   
_Graced a ride along_   
_With Geralt of Rivia_   
_Along came this song…"_

The hallways made Jaskier's steady voice echo. It might be possible even for a human to hear the playing all the way from the main hall a couple of floors down where Geralt knew the others were continuing their evening. Something about the gesture, about the ease which Jaskier was singing with, ignited a warmth deep in Geralt's chest as he listened. It really had been far, far too long since the last time Jaskier had played if _Toss a Coin to Your Witcher_ managed to make him feel like this.

The song turned into another and yet another, Jaskier appearing completely at peace as he sang out of his primary audience's eyesight. If this was the way for Jaskier to start regaining his confidence when performing, Geralt was more than happy he had figured it out.

There was a sudden flash of a teasing smile aimed at Geralt that punched the air out of his lungs before Jaskier switched to a melody he had never heard before.

_"Growl of the White Hound_   
_Is such a mighty sound_   
_To warn me and you_   
_The Hound's passing through_   
_On a quest seeking high and low_   
_To find the perfect meadow_   
_For he's to be crowned_   
_With flowers wild"_

When the fuck had Jaskier come up with that?

"What the hell, Jaskier?" Geralt echoed his thought as Jaskier let the final chord of the tiny song ring out, clearly done with the performance. "Is that about the time I searched for a fucking flower field for you?"

"Perhaps," Jaskier said serenely.

Jaskier definitely had calmed down from his earlier attack. Which was good, really good. Regardless of the stupid nonsense he just had sang. Geralt was almost annoyed at himself for how happy he was about the small song. Not that he'd ever admit it to Jaskier.

"You're unbelievable," Geralt huffed.

"Why, thank you," Jaskier said.

Geralt couldn't hold back a smile that sneaked its way to accompany an exasperated head shake. Getting to sing to people in a stress-free way clearly was doing wonders for Jaskier's mood.

It was having a similar effect on him too.

It just felt good to see Jaskier acting like this, especially so soon after a panic attack. The bard did look pale and drawn but there was life in his eyes instead of dull pain. He was aware, interacting, _singing_.

Fucking hell, he loved that man more than should be possible.

"Geralt?"

"Yes?"

"Help me up? I think my legs forgot how to work," Jaskier said, reaching out.

It didn't seem to be too much of a hyperbole since Jaskier did sway dangerously for a moment before finding his balance after Geralt heaved him onto his feet. Maybe the panic induced exhaustion was catching up with him.

"I'll go find extra furs. It's going to be freezing tonight," Geralt said after escorting Jaskier back to their door.

"Thanks," Jaskier yawned and stepped inside, leaving Geralt alone in the hallway.

After a brief moment of contemplation Geralt headed to Lambert's room, deciding it'd be the fastest way to get what he needed. The youngest Witcher always had a mountain of furs and blankets to ward off the cold. He'd survive without a couple. It wasn't as if Lambert would actually freeze his balls off like he liked to complain when talking about the weather. He didn't need the moral support of more furs than could reasonably even fit on his bed.

Satisfied with his hoard, Geralt returned to their room.

"Here," Geralt said, dumping the armful of furs unceremoniously on top of Jaskier who had laid down on the bed.

"Mmrph!" Jaskier protested against the treatment, mouth suddenly full of fur. After freeing his arms from his original blanket to be able to push the pile away from his face he stared at Geralt disgruntled. "Was that really necessary?"

"Hmmm."

Ignoring Jaskier's grumbles, Geralt went to stoke the fire and add more wood. There was no way he'd let it burn out tonight, not when the snowstorm was making the keep colder than usual.

"Geralt, could you bring me a sleeping potion? I really don't want to worry about nightmares tonight," Jaskier said, sitting up to lean against the headboard.

"Sure," Geralt said, going to take one off the shelf. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, I'm good. I just want to sleep," Jaskier said quietly, taking the vial from Geralt. "Feel free to go back down or something."

"I'll stay," Geralt said.

He really didn't want to leave Jaskier alone after a panic attack, not even now that he had calmed down and would be sleeping heavily in a safe place. It just didn't feel right.

"You don't have to. I mean it," Jaskier sighed before downing the potion and settling down again.

"I want to," Geralt said, taking the glass vial back and watching how Jaskier shifted a few times to find a better position before quickly falling asleep. He looked so peaceful, expression relaxed and breaths deep and slow.

With silent steps Geralt briskly readied himself for bed, the knowledge of getting an uninterrupted night of sleep too tempting to do anything else. Honestly, a peaceful night would do good for them both. After one more reassuring glance at Jaskier Geralt wrapped a fur around himself and closed his eyes, Jaskier's steady breathing acting like a lullaby.

A sudden bang of wood hitting stone made Geralt jump up and move between the bed Jaskier was sleeping in and the door before he had time to even register being awake.

"Where the fuck are my furs?!" Lambert demanded loudly, pointing at him with an angry glower.

"Shut up," Geralt hissed, stalking toward Lambert.

"...What– What's happening…?" Jaskier asked, voice scared and words slurring.

Too late.

"It's fine, Lambert is just being an ass. Go back to sleep, Jaskier," Geralt said as calmly as he could while wanting to wring his brother's neck.

"My furs. Now. I know it was you," Lambert said, taking a few steps forward and meeting Geralt in the middle of the room instead of backing out to the hallway.

"Shut up, Lambert," Geralt said.

Jaskier's heartbeat had switched into its anxious rhythm.

"Furs, Geralt. I'm not going to freeze my balls off because you decided to be a thieving bastard," Lambert repeated just as loudly as before.

"I'm sorry," Jaskier interrupted them, scrambling up. "Sorry. I didn't– didn't know I was using yours. I'm sorry."

That finally silenced Lambert.

"Sorry. Sorry, here," Jaskier continued hastily, scooping up all the furs he could and hurrying unsteadily to stand in front of Lambert.

It looked like Lambert wasn't sure how to react.

"Keep them," he finally huffed, crossing his arms.

"They're yours," Jaskier mumbled, trying to unsuccessfully offer the furs back.

"He doesn't want them. Go back to bed, Jaskier," Geralt sighed, wanting the scene to just be over. He really had been looking forward to sleeping the whole night.

"You can have them. I mean, you clearly aren't fucking to keep each other warm," Lambert shrugged.

The furs hit the floor.

"Out!" Geralt barked, shoving at Lambert's chest in emphasis. "Now!"

"Shit," Lambert cursed, letting himself be pushed backwards and out of the door without any resistance.

That taken care of, Geralt whirled around and hurried back. Jaskier was standing perfectly still, just hugging himself tightly and staring at the floor.

"Jaskier, look at me. It's safe here," Geralt coaxed. "You're safe, don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"Mmhmm."

At least it was an immediate reaction.

"Words, Jaskier. I need words."

"...Yeah... We're in Kaer Morhen, right…?" Jaskier mumbled, still not moving.

"Yes. We're in Kaer Morhen. In our room. It's safe," Geralt confirmed. "Lambert was just being an asshole like usual, not thinking about what he was saying."

"Kaer Morhen, right," Jaskier repeated, sounding more sure of it. Without saying anything else he stumbled back to the bed and got in, curling up.

With a quiet sigh Geralt picked up the furs and took them to Jaskier, this time placing them gently on him.

"Jaskier, are you alright?"

"...Mmhmm…"

Not a confidence inspiring reply.

"Just… remember I won't demand anything from you," Geralt said seriously, sitting down on his mattress so he could lean against the bed. "Neither will anyone else here."

"...Thanks," Jaskier whispered, sounding half asleep again. The potion clearly still had a strong sway over him, probably for the best too.

"Stop fighting it and go back to sleep. There's no reason to stay up," Geralt said, watching Jaskier nod and close his eyes. It didn't take long until he fell asleep.

It took Geralt hours to follow suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up and down we go...


	8. Chapter 8

"I'm disgusting," Jaskier said between nibbles of an apple slice.

"The fuck?" Geralt asked, looking offended.

Probably shouldn't have said only the conclusion of the thought.

"It's been ages since I've last tried to clean myself. I'm dirty and smell awful," Jaskier said. "I feel beyond disgusting."

"Ah."

Geralt seemed to have the good sense of not trying to deny it.

"There's probably something I can use as a washbasin…?" It was beyond frustrating how the thought was making him nervous. Why the fuck did it have to be so hard to bathe in any capacity?

"There is. Although…" Geralt trailed off, looking at him with a slight furrow between his brows.

"Although what?"

"We have hot springs. Do you want to try those? They're mostly in their natural shape," Geralt said.

"Oh. I–" That wasn't at all what Jaskier had expected. "I think I could try…? Can't promise it'll work. Rivers and lakes do, hopefully also the springs."

"Good." Geralt nodded, looking pleased. No wonder, the smell had to be absolutely dreadful to him. And the others.

"Can we go now?" Jaskier asked, popping the last apple slice into his mouth.

"No."

"Chores?"

"No, we need to find Eskel."

"Excuse me?" Jaskier exclaimed, heart starting to pound in fear. "No. We do not have to find him. No. No. I don't– I _can't_ have anyone else than you there!"

What was happening? Why was Geralt suddenly saying that? Why would he–? Why would–?

"Breath, Jaskier, breath. He's not joining us while you're in the springs," Geralt's words cut through the building panic the mere idea was causing. "You're safe, in Kaer Morhen. You need to breathe slowly."

"Ye- yeah…" Jaskier gulped, clinging to Geralt's voice. "Safe."

It'd be wonderful if he could remember it all the time.

Thankfully it didn't take long for him to calm down, the situation not having had time to escalate into an actual panic attack. Just a momentary teetering on the edge of one.

Shaking his hands to rid himself of the last of the tingling in his fingers, Jaskier asked, "Why do we need to get Eskel?"

"There's a bathroom area leading to the springs. It'll be for the best to fashion some sort of folding screens to hide the bathtubs there," Geralt said as if it was no hassle.

It definitely would be.

"No, you don't have to do that for me. I can just walk through it with eyes closed or something," Jaskier protested quickly despite the idea of getting close to the tubs made him hesitant. But he really, really needed to get clean and the hot springs sounded far too tempting not to try. It should be fine as long as he wouldn't see the bathtubs.

"That's impractical. Especially in the long run." Geralt shook his head. "Better to do it like this from the start. It won't even take that long."

"Geralt…"

"Jaskier."

Apparently there wouldn't be any chance of getting Geralt to change his mind.

"Fine. Is there anything I can help with?" Jaskier sighed, resigned to the fate that Geralt would be doing some indoor remodeling for his sake.

"Carry supplies," Geralt said, heading out of the kitchen to find Eskel. "We'll assemble them in the bathroom so you won't be able to help with that."

"That's something at least, I guess," Jaskier muttered to himself, following after him.

It didn't take too long to find Eskel, Geralt walking unerringly into the right direction either knowing where he'd be or following sounds only he could hear.

"Hello," Eskel greeted them, stopping stacking firewood in a small outbuilding.

"I need you to come build walls with me," Geralt said without any preamble.

"Walls," Eskel said blankly.

"...Folding screens or something similar," Jaskier specified, trying hard not to feel like he was inconveniencing him.

"That makes a little more sense," Eskel said, still looking confused. "Why?"

"Got to hide the bathtubs behind something so Jaskier can use the springs," Geralt said. "Come on, let's go get supplies. Those logs will be fine for now."

"Sure. Have you decided how to build them?" Eskel asked, pulling up a canvas to cover the firewood that was still outside.

"Wooden beams and fabric," Geralt said. "Best to make them light to move around."

"Sounds good," Eskel agreed, following them as Geralt set out to find everything needed.

"Thank you," Jaskier said, truly grateful. Geralt was right about this being more practical than him walking eyes closed past the tubs each time but it still felt like something that shouldn't be done just for his sake.

"No problem." Eskel smiled.

He even sounded sincere.

As Geralt and Eskel were looking for suitable fabric in a storage room, Jaskier hurried back to their room to change into clothes he didn't mind getting wet. The thick brocade doublet and matching trousers he were wearing most definitely weren't those. Jaskier couldn't help the cold shiver of dread running down his spine as he quickly replaced each article of clothing one by one. Being completely naked seemed to still be impossible. After wrapping his cloak around himself to ward against both the cold and being seen in the thinner clothes Jaskier hurried back to the safety of the Witchers.

It was nerve-wracking to idle outside of the bathroom knowing what it held and listen to the hammering and brief conversations coming from the other side of the door. Jaskier knew he wouldn't have to see the tubs. Wouldn't have to touch them, interact in any way at all. Their mere existence so close to him was enough for cold sweat to bead on his forehead.

It was fine. Totally fine.

No one would make him get in one.

Jaskier knew Geralt and Eskel had been fast and efficient in their impromptu building operation but it still felt like he had watched millenia pass him by when they exited. Civilizations had been built and collapsed, stars born and died.

"I'll go now. I hope everything goes well," Eskel said, taking the excess material with him as he left, giving Jaskier barely time to thank him.

The closed door was daunting.

"Geralt, can I hold your hand?" Jaskier asked. There was no way he could do this without holding onto him.

"Of course," Geralt said, taking his hand. "Take all the time you need."

Taking a deep breath and adjusting the grip he had on Geralt's hand Jaskier nodded. "Ready."

With that Geralt opened the door and stepped inside, gently tugging at Jaskier for him to follow.

Geralt's hand in his sweaty one was comforting, a counterpoint to the fear that wanted to burst out. It stayed at bay. There was nothing dangerous –imaginarily dangerous– in sight, only a straight path framed by makeshift folding screens to an open entryway. Nothing else.

"I'm okay," Jaskier said quietly, wanting Geralt to know his and Eskel's efforts were working.

"Good. Jaskier, if the springs make you anxious, you don't have to use them. We have washbasins," Geralt said seriously as they stepped into a large room with several springs.

Geralt had been right about them being left mostly in their natural state, only the mountain rock floor mostly smoothed out, walls built around it, and benches brought over. There was natural light filtering in from windows, giving just enough light to make the room lighter side of dim.

"How are you feeling?" Geralt asked.

"I'm okay. This is okay," Jaskier said, looking around but not letting go yet.

"Great," Geralt said, sounding genuinely glad. "Want to get closer?"

"Yeah. Let's."

"I can light up some of the torches if you want. I guess it's pretty dark here for you," Geralt offered.

"That'd be nice," Jaskier said, distracted by the water. He wanted to sink in it and never come up. This was definitely working. Maybe a little too well since the same compulsion was starting to take hold of him as with the other natural bodies of water. He just wanted –needed– to get _clean_.

Now.

"Jaskier?" Geralt asked sharply, stopping Jaskier from stepping into the closest pool.

He hadn't realized having let go of Geralt to do so.

"Yes?"

"Boots and cloak. You're still wearing them," Geralt said, the tight quality in his tone definitely not caused by worry for his clothes.

"Oh, right. Thanks," Jaskier said, quickly removing them and getting into the hot water without wasting another second.

Submerging, Jaskier could feel the pool start washing the dirt and grimy touches away. Cleansing. The water was hot but not scalding. Purifying. Everything was muffled underwater. Weightless. Jaskier wished he could stay as he was, never having to come up for air or get out of the water. Neither were possible. His lungs were starting to burn and bubbles forcing their way out of his mouth. He needed air. Jaskier refused to move. He didn't want to face the reality yet, not now that he was feeling clean for once. It had been so, so long since the last time. It wasn't as if swimming in winter waters was wise.

Jaskier resurfaced gasping for air and sputtering, gripping the smooth stone edge to stabilize himself while catching his breath.

"Don't do that again," Geralt snapped.

"What?" Jaskier asked once he had enough air to do so.

"Stay under that long," Geralt grunted. "I was about to drag you out."

"I'm not going to drown myself, Geralt," Jaskier sighed.

"Hn."

Jaskier knew how it looked to Geralt, him skirting around his lung capacity, but he just needed to do it. To let himself feel clean and free for as long as he possibly could. He did regret bringing up the memory of his ill-conceived jump into a river and how it accidentally looked like to Geralt. He still wasn't going to stop diving like this, not completely. It was selfish but he'd keep doing it. Jaskier knew he was being selfish anyway.

"I would never kill myself in front of you," Jaskier said seriously. "And I'm not suicidal, have never been."

"Hmmm."

That was at least a little bit more relaxed hum.

"Being underwater simply feels nice," Jaskier said, letting go of the edge and sliding down into the water up to his nose.

He didn't want to talk.

Just exist.

Forget.

Closing his eyes Jaskier focused on the sensation of the hot water, trying to wipe everything else away. A blank mind, that'd be wonderful. Nothing to worry about, nothing to think about. Just half sit half float on the bench that had been carved out of the stone wall of the spring. Just let all the filth coating him inside out wash away. Just… be alone in his own skin.

Jaskier's fingertips had pruned long ago before he spoke again. "Geralt, could you hand me the soap and washcloth? I know you're not meant to actually bathe in the spring itself but…"

"It's fine for you to do it," Geralt said, looking like he too had relaxed.

Without prompting Geralt turned around after fulfilling the request and moved to stand in front of the entryway, letting Jaskier bathe in relative privacy. Jaskier really wished he didn't have to do so while clothed, it was difficult to manage even now that he was wearing pieces he had specifically chosen with the activity in mind.

Geralt was beyond relieved the hot springs had worked out. If not, the whole winter would have been filled with only dread and anxiety about getting clean for Jaskier. He could however have done without the disturbing compulsion to stay underwater as long as was humanly possible without drowning cropping up again. Maybe one day Jaskier diving wouldn't alarm him but for now Geralt had no plans to let Jaskier frolic in the water without supervision. But the uncomfortable feeling was more than worth it. Almost anything would be worth it with the way Jaskier seemed to be completely at peace for once, looking like he had shed an immense weight that had been dragging him down.

Those …echoes… of the bastard king's touches probably.

"Geralt, can I hug you?" Jaskier asked, smiling at Geralt and drawing him out of his thoughts.

Smiling.

Jaskier was smiling.

"Yes, always. Always, Jaskier," Geralt wasn't exactly sure what he had just said, too focused on the warm and content smile lighting up Jaskier's face.

"Thank you," Jaskier said and got up from the bed he had been sitting on reading.

Geralt meant to tell him there was nothing to thank him for but was derailed into silence as Jaskier pressed himself tightly against him, winding arms around his neck. He had missed this. He really had despite the way he'd never admit it to Jaskier. Idiotic bard might think it was a demand of some kind and start seeking touch when he didn't actually want it.

"Geralt? Could you hug me back?" Jaskier asked quietly. "Very, very gently, please. I need to– I need to feel like I can get away."

"Hmmm." Words really were failing him. Geralt was afraid he'd say something embarrassing if he opened his mouth.

"You don't have to."

"Want to," Geralt said.

It was strange how big such a tiny gesture could feel. He was barely even touching Jaskier's upper back yet it felt …huge. Intimate. Like Jaskier was offering him the world.

"Love you," Jaskier whispered into his ear.

"Hmmm." I love you too.

"Let go?" Jaskier requested almost the second the small exchange was over.

Geralt wanted to press him closer to himself. He let go.

Jaskier didn't step away, just kept hugging.

Geralt wondered if it was possible to die from feeling love. Something definitely was going on with his heart. It felt like it was about to either burst or go into a cardiac arrest.

Jaskier took a small step backwards, leaving Geralt feeling bereft and cold.

"Could I give you a kiss on the hand?" Jaskier asked after silently staring at him for a short while.

"You're fucking cute," Geralt blurted out as an answer.

_Fuck._

He _knew_ he shouldn't have opened his mouth.

But maybe it wasn't too bad since Jaskier burst out in a delighted peal of laughter and reached out for his hand, prompting Geralt to meet him halfway.

"That's a yes, then?" Jaskier asked once he had gotten the last giggles under control.

"Hmmm." Geralt nodded. He wasn't risking saying more mortifying things.

"You too are fucking cute, my love," Jaskier said eyes shining with mischief.

Geralt would deny for the rest of his life having let out a squeak that made Jaskier laugh again. He most definitely did not squeak. Ever.

But the kiss bestowed afterwards was a precious gift that made his knuckles tingle with warmth even after Jaskier had retreated back to bed, out of where he could be touched. Even after the bard started to nod off, each blink taking longer and longer. Even as Geralt headed toward the training grounds he knew the rest were at after making sure Jaskier would be fine alone for a couple of hours.

"Sloppy," Vesemir snapped. "Put that sword down before you hurt someone."

Geralt couldn't help the rising shame the words caused as he did as told. He hadn't practiced as much as usual in months but he hadn't thought it was that noticeable. He should have known better. Of course Vesemir would spot everything.

"You haven't kept up with your routines," Vesemir said, voice heavy with disapproval.

"I ha–" Geralt started only to click his jaw shut at the sharp look Vesemir shot at him.

He could see in his peripheral vision Eskel and Lambert giving him varying levels of sympathetic looks.

"You haven't. I know your circumstances are unusual but it's still not acceptable. It's a miracle you haven't gotten yourself killed," Vesemir said. "One mistake and you're dead. You know better than this, Geralt."

"Yes, Vesemir," Geralt said, fighting against the urge to lower his head or avert eyes.

"There's a reason why you're supposed to practice every day. Missing days once in a while is inevitable but you've clearly been neglecting it. You're slower than last winter. Strikes less precise. Your footwork is clumsier," Vesemir continued.

Each flaw pointed out kept fanning the shame until it was a burning thing in Geralt's chest.

"Yes, Vesemir."

"You will not be skipping practice from now on. Ask Jaskier to accompany us if needed but you'll make the time for this," Vesemir finished.

Maybe he should be glad it was only a brief lecture. Not even very in depth. And Geralt knew nothing that had been said was unwarranted. He had been far too lax in his practicing ever since the shitshow of a feast.

"Now, let's switch to unarmed. Geralt, you'll be returning to basics tomorrow. I won't have you near your brothers with an unsheathed sword before you've corrected the most glaring errors," Vesemir said, gesturing for Eskel and Lambert to put their swords away.

Geralt was glad he had a brief moment to swallow down the humiliation the words caused before the practice restarted. He would not be further distracted, wouldn't give Vesemir more reasons to be disappointed in him.

Eskel gave Geralt a consoling pat on the shoulder as he walked to stand next to him to wait for instructions.

"Geralt, Lambert, you'll start. An unarmed bout with no signs, the objective is to either pin the other down for five seconds or get them to yield," Vesemir said.

"Should be easy enough. Especially since someone can't bother keeping up with their skills," Lambert drawled, rotating his shoulders. "Feeling full of yourself, huh?"

"Hnn."

Waiting for the go sign, Geralt readied to charge. He'd have to be fast to act, knowing attacking first was Lambert's preferred method. He was far from incapable of fighting defensively but it'd put him in slight disadvantage and Geralt was determined to get the upper hand. He was going to prove Vesemir wrong about having lost his edge despite having made some errors.

As predicted, Lambert immediately advanced aggressively, meeting Geralt head on. Instead of falling on the defense Geralt continued his own attack, doing his best to throw Lambert off-balance.

Lambert's shit-eating grin as he refused to give even an inch was irritating. Especially since Geralt recognized it for the precursor for trash talking, something he really wasn't in the mood for. He just wanted to focus on the practice, not turn it into something more lighthearted. He didn't currently have the luxury of doing so.

"Come on, Wolf! Move those old bones," Lambert taunted. "How are you going to defend Jaskier if that's the best you can do?"

Geralt could hear himself growl deep from his chest at the words even as a red haze was starting to fill his vision. With renewed strength he broke through Lambert's guard, landing a hit that made him take a stumbling step back. Sensing weakness, Geralt pounced.

"I yield! I fucking yield!"

Blinking, Geralt realized he was pressing a knee between Lambert's shoulder blades and twisting his arm back in a manner that was far too close to dislocating the shoulder joint.

"Geralt! Let him go right this instant," Vesemir commanded, voice tightly controlled and grabbed Geralt's arm.

"Geralt," Eskel said, also taking hold of him.

"Let go, you bastard!" Lambert cursed loudly.

Feeling disoriented, Geralt loosened his grip and let Eskel and Vesemir drag him off Lambert.

"Fucker," Lambert muttered, getting up and massaging his shoulder that had been wrenched back almost beyond its capacity.

"Geralt, go to my study and wait for me there. Now," Vesemir said, eyes piercing.

Without a word Geralt followed the order, legs moving on muscle memory as his mind tried to catch up with the events. Unable to calm down he kept pacing around the study after arriving, feeling like there was an angry swarm of bees buzzing in his veins or lightning running through him.

"Explain," Vesemir said the moment he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a click that sounded far too final.

"I…" Geralt wasn't sure what to say.

"Lost control," Vesemir finished for him.

There was no denying it so Geralt only lowered his gaze.

"Sparring is not an excuse for violence. Your aim isn't to hurt your opponent and for that you must always be in control of your actions," Vesemir said, repeating words Geralt had heard him tell each new class of novices.

"I know," Geralt said quietly.

"Good." Vesemir nodded and took a seat, gesturing Geralt to follow suit. After regarding Geralt briefly he continued. "I know it were Lambert's words that pushed you over the edge. He should have chosen them more carefully."

Geralt knew he was expected to say something. He didn't.

"You're hurting, Geralt. Talk to me before you truly hurt someone else," Vesemir said seriously.

"Too late for that," Geralt muttered.

"Is that so?"

"I keep hurting Jaskier."

"Hmmm?"

Finally looking up from the floor, Geralt saw Vesemir watching him with concern.

"I was an absolute bastard to him at first, hadn't the faintest clue how to act. I still don't know what I'm doing," Geralt said slowly. "I kept constantly losing my temper. Restrained him in an embrace when I knew he didn't want to be touched, even as he _begged_ for me to let him go. Yelled at him right after he had had a flashback, one that was caused by him finally facing what happened. I ripped his shirt open. I used _Axii_ on him. And the arrival here."

It was a terrible, shameful list even when omitting the less severe offenses. Those were too many to count.

"I want to tear something apart," Geralt choked out. "I'm so fucking angry. At the bastard king. At myself. Even at Jaskier sometimes."

"Geralt…"

"I killed Marden too fast, didn't know what he had done. I want him to pay for what he did, for the way he keeps tormenting Jaskier. I want to make him suffer, rip him apart and start with his hands," Geralt said, voice nearing a snarl. "I wish I could kill him again, make him feel it. Each agonizing inch."

Geralt knew his words painted him as the monster humans saw Witchers as. But he was so _furious_. Had been for months, a continuous spark smoldering deep inside him just waiting to be fanned into a bonfire.

An ugly aspect of himself he hadn't been able to show.

He couldn't talk about that with Jaskier. Brajan had blanched at the first mention of killing despite not having protested. Roach had heard some of it.

"It's natural to be angry on the behalf of someone you care about when they're harmed," Vesemir said.

That wasn't what Geralt had expected. He had been sure he'd be reprimanded, told that his reaction was out of line.

"Geralt, anger in itself isn't bad. It can be a sign of witnessing injustice or abuse, something that goes against your moral code. A sign something is wrong," Vesemir continued. "It's about what you do with it. It's your actions that can turn anger into a destructive force if you let it consume you or turn it loose on those not at fault."

"I can't stand the idea of Jaskier being hurt again," Geralt stated. Just the thought was enough to stoke the spark.

"He will be. The world isn't kind enough to avoid it and you're not omnipotent," Vesemir said seriously.

Geralt knew Vesemir was right. The truth made him clench his jaw tightly, teeth grinding against each other.

"Geralt, you can't turn your anger inward either. It'll eat you whole and burn you out until you're only a husk of who you were."

"What am I supposed to do with it then?" Geralt asked, crossing his arms defensively without meaning to.

"Find the reason–"

"I know why I'm angry," Geralt couldn't help but interrupt.

"Do you?" Vesemir asked, looking at him intensely.

"Yes."

"Tell me."

"Because of what the bastard king did to Jaskier."

Vesemir nodded. "Why?"

What kind of a question was that?

"Because it was sick," Geralt said, getting frustrated.

"Yet similar things have never bothered you like this before despite being aware of such things happening. Why?" Vesemir asked neutrally.

"Because I fucking love Jaskier and should have kept him safe!" Geralt yelled, getting up and starting to pace again. "I failed, I keep failing!"

"How did you fail?" Vesemir asked, making Geralt realize Vesemir didn't know.

Well. He had managed to share it with Eskel and Lambert. He could do it again.

"Oh, Geralt," Vesemir sighed once Geralt finished talking. "You've always tried to shoulder everything and blame yourself for things not your fault."

"It was," Geralt insisted. "As were the things after we got away."

"You did your best in the circumstances that were heavily against you. You survived, you both survived. That's what matters," Vesemir said, moving to stand in front of Geralt. "And what came afterwards… Geralt, you didn't have the knowledge or the experience. Nothing taught to you prepared you for such a role as you're in now."

On that they agreed. The training definitely hadn't touched on helping someone struggling with psychological trauma.

"Emotions… They were seen as trivial, a distraction that was better to be suppressed," Vesemir said slowly. "Our mutations help with that, dampening them in a way, and rest could be strived for with mental discipline. Do you know why that was a desired outcome?"

Before Geralt had time to answer, Vesemir continued. "To get rid of the instinctual self-preservation, the fear for one's life. It helps us to do our job, to face the monsters without a part of us demanding to retreat to safety. But removing every feeling and instinct isn't possible as you know. We just process them differently from humans."

Geralt wasn't sure if Vesemir was giving him time to say something or if he was simply gathering his thoughts. He decided to stay silent.

"But that ideal made sure you boys weren't properly taught how to deal with emotions or even identify them well. Letting you act too freely would have been dangerous to you. The mages and grandmasters might have taken notice and decided more experiments were necessary to erase everything, to keep improving that aspect," Vesemir said solemnly, old pain lurking in his eyes. "Later… Well. You were already adults."

This time Geralt simply didn't have the words.

"Geralt, aside from the stress of helping Jaskier you're learning how to connect with your emotions. Of course it's overwhelming and anger is simple in a way. Strong enough to drown out more complicated ones," Vesemir said after a moment of silence. "But its roots can be in those tangled ones and you have to dig deep to find the source. From what you told, it seems to me that your anger is seated in both the terrible injustice that befell Jaskier and your guilt of not having been able to prevent it. Do you think I understood correctly?"

"...Yes." It sounded right.

"That should give you a starting point then. Such anger you're holding on to will only keep distracting you from what's important if not dealt with."

"How?"

"Reason, disengage, get some perspective on what actually happened and not what you think did," Vesemir said, studying him with a frown.

"Hmmm."

"Now, go run through the killer until you feel like you can't take another step and have a clearer head," Vesemir added, a small smile tugging at his lips.

That was far more familiar. Geralt couldn't even guess at how many times the same order had been given to him. There was something strangely comforting about the fact that it hadn't changed.

"I'll check on Jaskier first," Geralt nodded, heading to the door.

"Good. Remind him that he's welcome to move around freely if he so wants and doesn't have to stay alone while you're gone," Vesemir said.

"I will," Geralt agreed right before leaving the study.

That really was something that Jaskier should be reminded of. Being separated had been much easier on Jaskier once he had started to spend time with Brajan and his family instead of staying cooped up and alone in their room. The same should happen here once Jaskier would take that step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier having good time? Geralt TALKING about feelings??? And Vesemir is strict with training since he wants his boys to stay alive. Whether or not it always manifests in best of the ways... 
> 
> (Not shown, Lambert getting a dressing-down)


	9. Chapter 9

Jaskier truly wished Geralt had stayed with him longer before leaving to run through the …killer. Which was a terribly ominous thing to name an obstacle course. But anxiety wasn't a good enough reason to ask for Geralt not to go. They needed to get used to this and there was no other way than separating.

The walls seemed to be getting closer, pushing air away.

Wrapping the weighted blanket around his shoulders, Jaskier walked hesitantly to stand in front of the door. Geralt had said it was alright to wander around. The few times he had walked alone to the main hall had been fine, nothing had happened. It was much safer to step out here than when residing in any rented room. Rented meant inns. Inns meant strangers. Strangers meant potential danger.

There were no strangers here.

Only Geralt and his family.

It was safe.

Repeating the thought in his head Jaskier stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind himself as not to draw attention.

The hallway stayed empty.

Jaskier wasn't sure why he tried to be quiet.

Clutching the heavy blanket around his shoulders, Jaskier started to make his cautious way toward the library. He had no idea where everyone was but that might be a place to find someone or at least feel halfway comfortable.

He definitely wasn't sure why he was bothering to sneak. It wasn't as if there was a need. Or a chance of not being spotted. Opening the library door, Jaskier poked his head in to look around. There was no one in sight but a curious rhythmic clicking and clacking sound was coming from deeper in the room, somewhere behind the shelves.

Jaskier was debating whether or not it'd be safe to go see what was causing it when the sound stopped and Eskel's voice replaced it. "You don't have to stay in the hallway, Jaskier. You can come in if you want to."

Encouraged, Jaskier made his way to the back of the library where a cozy seating area resided. Eskel was sitting by the fire, a ball of yarn next to him and knitting what looked like a start of a sock.

That wasn't what Jaskier had expected.

Keeping an eye on Eskel, Jaskier sat down on a couch as far from him as he could.

There were no objections.

"Geralt is running through the killer, isn't he?" Eskel asked, returning to his knitting.

"Yes. How did you know?" Jaskier asked, drawing his legs onto the couch and to his chest so he could cover them too underneath the weighted blanket.

"It's one of Vesemir's favorite punishments. Geralt made a major error during the training," Eskel said, briefly glancing at Jaskier.

It was nice not to be stared at.

"Ah. He didn't explain why he suddenly wanted to go run through it for undetermined time," Jaskier said. He wasn't quite as anxious now that there was someone with him.

Not feeling good yet.

But better.

Eskel would most likely make sure he'd stay safe, even if it might be just for Geralt's sake. Still, it was enough to help keep the anxiety at bay, to keep it from turning all-consuming.

"Might take him a while to come back. Vesemir probably told him to do it until he feels ready to drop," Eskel said. "It's great you decided to leave your room alone for once."

"Uhhh… Thanks for letting me stay here," Jaskier said, not exactly sure what to do with the sentiment.

"You don't need my permission." Eskel shook his head, looking at Jaskier with a sincere expression. "And you're welcome companionship."

It was difficult to believe he was wanted around.

"I wouldn't have guessed you know how to knit," Jaskier said, too curious to keep from mentioning the activity any longer.

"It's fun and winters are long. I learned to do it years ago," Eskel said. "Making useful things is great too. I like giving them to others once I'm done. I'd otherwise be also drowning in them."

"If you see something knitted, it's probably made by me," Eskel added with a smile.

"Really?" Jaskier said, surprised. Hit by a worrying thought, he added, "Then the scarf and cap Geralt has lent me…?"

"I think I gifted those to him two years ago? Maybe three," Eskel said thoughtfully.

"Mmhmm."

"Jaskier, you really don't need to worry about any clothes and such that are given or lent to you," Eskel said seriously, a light frown appearing on his brow. "Like I said earlier, there's no hidden catch to it."

"I want to believe that. I really do," Jaskier said quietly, eyes downcast and one of his hands finding its way to fidget with the beads. "It's just… last time someone else than Geralt –or you, now– did so… It led to…"

"You don't have to tell me," Eskel said kindly. "But of course you can if you want to."

Jaskier took a brief moment to debate with himself before continuing. Thinking about anything that had happened was terribly painful but… "I was hired to perform at a minor king's feast and given a generous advance to spend on a courtly attire. Accepting… it was the prelude to everything. Later another outfit was shoved at me."

It'd be great if he could talk about it without his voice cracking or eyes starting to burn.

Feeling Eskel's eyes on him, Jaskier curled up tighter underneath his blanket.

"I can understand why that has made you suspicious of such things," Eskel said, surprising Jaskier. Rubbing at his scars Eskel continued, "Accepting kindness… It can be really hard in general."

"...Yeah…"

With that they lapsed into silence, Jaskier busy shoving down his rising anxiety and Eskel returning to his knitting. Jaskier would have described the scene peaceful if he wasn't trying not to be swallowed by a black hole inside himself.

Just as Jaskier was starting to be sure he'd fail, Eskel broke the silence. "Jaskier, would you like to learn how to knit?"

"Me?"

"You."

It seemed like a pleasantly fidgety activity. And–

"Geralt would look good in a hideous cap, wouldn't he? I'm sure he'd wear anything I make if I ask him to," Jaskier said, attempting to smile. Hopefully Eskel could tell what the tiny twitch of lips was meant to be.

"Want to start now? I can go get more yarn and knitting needles for you," Eskel offered.

"Uhhh… Later…? My hands are shaking too much…" Jaskier mumbled.

"That's fine with me," Eskel said easily. "Let me know when you want to start and I'll take the time to give you the first lesson."

"I will." Jaskier was almost sure he really would do so.

"Lambert is coming," Eskel said, clearly distracted from what he had been about to say.

Almost immediately after he had finished, the library door opened and Lambert strode up to them.

"Here," Lambert said gruffly, dropping a large, luxurious looking bear fur next to Jaskier on the couch. "Use it. It's only going to get colder."

"...What…?" Jaskier wished he could say something more intelligent but nothing came to mind.

"It's yours now," Lambert stated and quickly left, not letting Jaskier say anything else.

"...What…?" Jaskier repeated, this time looking at Eskel.

"I think that was an apology," Eskel said.

"An apology?"

"Yeah. Lambert is awful at them, at least as bad as Geralt if not even worse." Eskel shrugged.

"Geralt has gotten pretty good actually," Jaskier said, feeling proud of him.

"He has?" Eskel asked, looking flabbergasted. "Geralt? Are we talking about the same Witcher?"

"We are." Jaskier nodded. With a regretful tone he continued, "At first… During the first weeks… Neither of us had any idea what was happening or how to deal. We ended up constantly hurting each other. We got a lot of practice with apologizing."

Not that he had stopped unintentionally hurting Geralt.

"Well, he definitely has needed practice," Eskel said, shaking his head. "Another reason would have been much preferable but…"

"Mmhmm."

The anxiety that had been griping him had settled back to its usual undercurrent at some point, leaving him feeling exhausted. Jaskier doubted Eskel would mind it so he positioned the thick fur to work as a pillow and laid down on the couch.

"Sorry. I swear I'm not bored, just getting tired again," Jaskier said, wanting to make sure Eskel knew it wasn't anything he had done. That it was just his haywire body not cooperating.

"I think you have had a bit too much practice with apologizing, Jaskier," Eskel said with a wry smile. "There's nothing to be sorry about."

"Sorry." Shit.

Somehow Eskel didn't seem irritated, his smile just morphing into a warmer one.

"Really, there's no reason to be anxious. I don't mind if we end the conversation here or if you want to take a nap. You're free to do whatever you want, Jaskier," Eskel reassured him. "You don't have to push yourself to act a certain way around me or the others. It's safe for you to just be you."

"Thank you," Jaskier whispered, truly grateful and blinking threatening tears away that were caused by the warmth that was starting to bloom in his chest.

Maybe Eskel really was safe to be around and not just because he'd act nice for Geralt's sake.

"I really mean it. Thank you, Eskel," Jaskier repeated sincerely.

"Hmmm." Eskel focused on knitting again.

It was a familiar hum.

Feeling safe, Jaskier closed his eyes and simply listened to the clicking of the knitting needles and the crackle of the fire. He knew there was no chance of actually falling asleep but that didn't mean he couldn't try to rest some. It should make getting through the evening easier. Tiredness only amplified everything, made it hard to shut anything out.

Jaskier had no idea how long time had passed when Eskel informed him that Geralt was about to enter. It was such a kind gesture, letting him know in advance someone was coming. Making sure he wouldn't be startled by it.

"Welcome back," Jaskier mumbled, dragging his heavy eyelids open and sitting up. "Did you finish?"

"Yeah," Geralt said, taking a seat next to Jaskier slowly, leaving him time to protest the action if wanted.

Geralt's hair was still damp from a bath he seemed to have taken. Jaskier's fingers itched to comb through it.

"Geralt, can I braid your hair?" Jaskier asked despite the way his heart skipped a beat at the thought of touching Geralt's hair. But it had never bothered Geralt before and he was more than capable of refusing if he didn't want it.

Geralt gave a sigh but nodded. "Go for it."

"Thanks."

"How many socks are you going to make?" Geralt asked Eskel, turning his back to Jaskier.

"As many as I want," Eskel said.

A glance at him showed a finished pair and one sock halfway done.

"Hmmm."

Combing his fingers through Geralt's hair, Jaskier considered the braid options. Probably nothing elaborate this time. His hands had stopped shaking but he doubted he'd have the needed focus for anything that'd take time.

Nodding to himself, Jaskier started on a simple half up fishtail.

Geralt's hair was soft between his fingers and Jaskier could feel him subtly leaning into the touch. Definitely enjoying the attention then, not just humoring him.

Far too soon Jaskier finished, rueing his decision not to make an elaborate one after all.

"Everything alright?" Geralt asked as Jaskier kept playing with the end of his braid.

"I'm okay," Jaskier said, almost surprised that it was the truth.

"Hmmm."

"Things calmed down soon enough after I joined Eskel," Jaskier said, giving a grateful look at Eskel.

He got a smile in return.

"I'm glad," Geralt said.

"Me too," Jaskier agreed quietly.

"Jaskier, I think I finally understand what you mean by not liking acting before thinking to protect yourself," Geralt said slowly when they had been in their room for a while, just peacefully coexisting in silence.

"Oh?" Jaskier blinked, lifting his head up from Geralt's shoulder where he had been resting it to properly look at him.

"Hmmm."

"Geralt, this is the point where you're supposed to elaborate on that," Jaskier prompted him.

"The loss of control… It really is dangerous," Geralt said, staring at the opposite wall.

"It is. I don't want to harm others without it actually being deliberate," Jaskier said. "It needs to be a choice."

Geralt nodded at that, agreeing with the sentiment.

"Eskel said you made a major error during the training. Is this connected to that?" Jaskier asked.

"Yes," Geralt sighed. "Lost control. Things could easily have gotten bad."

"But they didn't?" Jaskier inquired.

"...No, not really," Geralt said after brief deliberation. Lambert hadn't gotten hurt despite it being a close call.

"Did you apologize?"

Geralt's silence seemed to be all the answer Jaskier needed.

"You should. Don't let me be the only one you do that to," Jaskier said seriously.

"Hmmm."

Jaskier did have a point. Maybe he really should apologize. Maybe. Depending on how Lambert would act next time they saw.

"Geralt, it's okay to let the others see how kind you are. Besides, I'm sure they know anyway," Jaskier said. "It's alright to show it also with words, not only actions."

Geralt wasn't exactly sure why the words made him feel vaguely cornered. He knew his family _knew_ him throughly. Had seen him during his low points. It was safe to lower his guards around them. He even did so. But Jaskier's words were still hitting something deep inside him.

He wasn't as kind as Jaskier seemed to think. He really wasn't.

"Geralt, love, you're a much better man than you think you are," Jaskier said softly as if hearing his thoughts. "There's no reason for you to run away from that."

Geralt could only stare Jaskier in the eye, trying futilely to find something to say or even comprehend the words.

"May I kiss you?" Jaskier asked, expression open and sincere. "On the lips?"

"Yes. Yes, Jaskier," Geralt said breathlessly, taken completely by surprise. "I'd like that."

Slowly, giving them both time to back down, Jaskier leaned closer and brushed his lips against Geralt's.

It was a chaste, barely there gesture.

It meant the world.

Geralt wanted to ask Jaskier if he could hold him, to extend the loving gesture to last a little longer but Jaskier was already shuffling slightly farther away from him. It was clear more physical contact wouldn't be welcomed for now. Geralt couldn't stop the brief painful twisting in his chest at Jaskier's reaction despite also being glad he was listening to his limits.

But gods, the amount of trust Jaskier showed him was staggering.

Just because the infrequency and fluctuation of Jaskier's tolerance for touch sometimes left him craving for more, it didn't mean each time didn't fill him with deep warmth. It was amazing Jaskier wanted to engage in any sort of intimate activity. Trusted him so thoroughly that it was stronger than the ever present fear Jaskier was living in. Trusted he wouldn't take it any further than what Jaskier was comfortable with. Trusted he wouldn't let his hands wander or demand for more. Trusted he wouldn't do anything without consent.

_Trusted him._

"I'm sorry I can't–" Jaskier started only to squeeze his eyes closed and change his wording. "Thank you for letting me retreat."

Nice to see Jaskier was trying to get over his compulsive apologizing.

"You know I'm happy to go at your pace, Jaskier," Geralt said. "Don't worry about it."

Geralt was sure Jaskier would keep doing exactly that.

"I'll try," Jaskier said wryly, confirming the thought.

"Good."

After a while Jaskier stood up and stretched. "Want to go downstairs?"

"Sure." Geralt nodded, following suit. To his surprise, Jaskier made a small detour to grab his lute before exiting the room after him.

"Planning on playing?" Geralt asked, leading the way.

"Perhaps. I'm not sure. Depends on how I feel about it once we get there," Jaskier said. "But I'm not going to do a proper performance in any case."

"Hmmm."

Whatever Jaskier's decision would be, the returning interests in music was a good sign. Things were starting to normalize then again for him. But hopefully this time the fucking Toss a Coin wouldn't make an appearance. Jaskier had plenty of other far less irritating songs to sing.

They had had barely any time after arriving in the main hall before Vesemir and Eskel entered, greeting them and taking seats at the table. Apparently it had gotten late enough for dinner without noticing.

"Someone better come carry the dishes with me or you're not eating more than these potatoes," Lambert declared, carrying a large bowl of them to the table and prompting Eskel to head to the kitchen.

Geralt couldn't help but notice the dirty looks Lambert kept shooting him as they ate.

"Sorry," Geralt said. It did come out as more of a hiss through gritted teeth but at least he managed to do it. That should be more than enough.

"What did you just say?" Lambert asked.

"You heard me," Geralt grunted.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. Repeat," Lambert said, a grin starting to form.

"Fuck off."

"That's no way to apologize."

Yep, Lambert was enjoying this far too much. No apologies for him in the future.

"Indeed. You should be nicer to your brother and take responsibility, Geralt," Vesemir said, amused glint in his eyes.

This was why apologizing was a bad idea.

"Don't worry, dear heart. You did a great job," Jaskier said, making Geralt almost choke on a piece of meat he had just started chewing.

The following laughter from the others wasn't a welcome addition.

Turning to Jaskier Geralt was about to grumble about the timing of using endearments when his thoughts were derailed. For once Jaskier was eating properly, not just picking at his food and pushing it around. It was enough for Geralt's scowl to smooth into a warm half-smile. Jaskier had to be having a really, really good day. Almost choking wasn't too bad compared to that.

"What?" Jaskier asked, looking bemused.

"Nothing." Better not to draw any attention to the fact.

"Okay…?"

"He's making doe-eyes at you because you're finally eating," Lambert drawled.

Thank you so fucking much, Lambert.

"Oh," Jaskier breathed, blinking at his plate and blushing when he realized everyone else was also looking at it.

"That's very good but nothing newsworthy," Vesemir said, prompting them to focus on something else.

Geralt couldn't stop side-eyeing Jaskier until he continued his dinner.

Finished too.

It should be ridiculous how satisfying it was to see.

It didn't take Jaskier long to excuse himself afterwards, retreating to the farthest chair and placing his lute in his lap. Soon enough Vesemir followed Jaskier, leaving an empty chair between them and striking up a quiet conversation.

"Geralt, I think Jaskier likes me," Eskel said, keeping his voice from carrying and sounding almost awed.

"Why wouldn't he?" Geralt shrugged. "He's just still a bit nervous."

Or skittish to be more precise.

"Why would he?" Eskel asked back, gesturing at all of himself. "This ugly mug is enough to scare anyone."

"Quit that," Geralt said, scowling at Eskel. "You're probably the least scary thing here."

"Lil' Bleater is scarier than you," Lambert added.

"Doesn't count, Eskel dragged her here straight from hell."

"Excuse me, she's a sweetheart," Eskel defended his goat. "You're just mean to her."

"She ate my gloves last winter!" Lambert argued loudly enough for Vesemir and Jaskier to turn to look at them.

"She's a goat, Lambert, goats like to chew on things. Don't leave your things around and you won't have any problems," Eskel said.

"I lived here first," Lambert scoffed.

"Yet Lil' Bleater spends more time here. Have some respect," Eskel said, using a patronizing tone definitely just to annoy Lambert.

"Fuck you and your horned women," Lambert said with feeling.

"Wait. Why are we even talking about Lil' Bleater?" Geralt asked, frowning.

"Because you two are wimps scared of a goat," Eskel said promptly.

Lambert threw him a rude hand gesture.

"Just admit she's a hell beast," Geralt said.

"I most definitely will not," Eskel said. "Besides, neither Vesemir or Jaskier have any problems with her."

"They don't count. Vesemir is Vesemir and Jaskier has no self-preservation instincts," Geralt stated. "Just wait until she chomps on Jaskier's songbook."

"Does he leave them lying about outside in the snow?"

"...No. But at some point Lil' Bleater will decide she wants a taste of more expensive fabric and Jaskier will find out what she's actually like," Geralt said, pouring more vodka into his tankard. "I've seen her sizing him up."

"Seriously, Geralt? Sizing him up?" Eskel snorted. "Goats aren't predators."

"This one is," Lambert said decisively before taking a long swig of his drink.

Before there was time to say anything else the idle and aimless chords that had started playing at some point turned into a proper song. Geralt couldn't have named it if asked but he knew from Jaskier's explanations it was one of the highly regarded classical pieces from about a century and a half ago. Turning to look, he saw Jaskier playing his lute with a calm expression and Vesemir leaning back in his chair, eyes closed.

A request then.

It had to have been years since Vesemir had heard songs from that time period. Classical music didn't make an appearance in taverns. Geralt doubted Vesemir had attended many concerts, royal events, or music festivals lately where he might be able to listen to such music.

"Jaskier really knows how to play," Eskel said, also observing the scene.

"Hmmm."

He really did. Despite some of Jaskier's lyrics being questionable, there was no denying his talent. Not when it involved anything musical.

"He's good," Lambert agreed.

"He knows how to play the violin, harpsichord, and the flute too," Geralt said, warmth blooming in his chest.

"You sound so fucking proud of him," Lambert cackled.

"I do not!"

"Yes you do!"

"You two sound drunk," Eskel said.

"Well, so do you! Don't try to sound like you're any better than us," Lambert shot back.

"Just pointing it out," Eskel said, raising his hands in surrender.

"Boys, I'm trying to listen to the music," Vesemir interrupted them, sounding amused. "Stop shouting."

"We're not shouting!" Lambert shouted.

"Indoor voice, Lambert," Vesemir said.

"I use whatever voice I want to," Lambert grumbled quietly.

"Sure you do, buddy," Eskel consoled him. "Sure you do."

"Fuck off, goat man."

"Have some more vodka, buddy," Geralt said, pouring some into Lambert's tankard before taking a swig from his own.

"I'm not your buddy!"

"Yes, you're right. You're our little brother, not our buddy." Eskel nodded solemnly.

"Fuck you doubly!"

"Lambert, volume control," Vesemir reprimanded lazily.

"Why the hell–"

Lambert didn't have time to finish when they all fell silent in astonishment as Jaskier started laughing.

"Sorry– I– You–" Jaskier tried to unsuccessfully say between his peals of laughter.

There were tears of mirth in the corners of his eyes.

Geralt felt like someone had taken all the oxygen out of the air.

"Jaskier…" Geralt breathed, unable to look away.

Jaskier had reached the point where he was more wheezing silently red-faced and flapping his hand in a vague manner to let them know he was alright than just laughing out loud. Anyone in that state probably shouldn't fit the category of beautiful.

Jaskier did.

Geralt couldn't remember the last time he had seen Jaskier laugh so hard.

It was doing strange things to his heart.

"Are you blushing, Wolf?" Eskel asked, sounding beyond delighted.

"No!" Geralt denied immediately, fighting against the urge to hide his face behind his hands.

Jaskier let out an ugly sounding wheeze-snort-laugh at the exchange.

Geralt was starting to feel vaguely worried if he was getting enough air. It definitely didn't look or sound like it. Maybe they should stay silent until Jaskier would get himself under control again. Everything seemed to only fuel his almost hysterical laughter.

"I'm good. I'm good," Jaskier said, still giggling but starting to finally gather himself.

Geralt wanted to get up and kiss the ridiculous bard senseless.

"Great," he said instead.

"Sweet Melitele, I needed that," Jaskier said, shaking his head and still smiling.

"Laughter can be a great remedy," Vesemir agreed, clearly glad.

Jaskier nodded, taking a deep breath and relaxing in his chair.

Geralt truly hoped it was a sign that Jaskier was finally feeling at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Social link with Eskel upgraded to "safe person"! A kiss! Kaer Morons! Laughter!
> 
> I'm so glad this positive chapter ended up updating as an early holiday gift. :D Happy solstice and holidays! ❤️❤️❤️


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: There's an intense flashback described from Jaskier's pov. To skip it, stop at "Vesemir stayed quiet and still, just waiting." and skip to where Geralt pov starts.  
> *

Jaskier felt slightly out of place as he followed Geralt out to the training grounds. Geralt's offer to come with him had been clearly sincere but he was still slightly worried about bothering anyone with his presence. Just because Geralt was used to him watching didn't mean the others would be as amiable. But there hadn't been any real competition between the choice to stay alone or follow along.

The friendly greetings he got were enough to put that particular worry to rest.

It was nice not to be currently stuck in the never-ending loop of doubt.

Yesterday… Yesterday had been good. Really good. One of the best days in ages if Jaskier was honest with himself. It was rare. It was wonderful. It was hard to remember life was supposed to feel like that. Hopefully days like it would keep getting more frequent. He was so _tired_ of constantly feeling like shit.

"Vesemir, could I join in on the early warm up? I know the routine and swear not to get in the way with my sad attempts," Jaskier asked once Vesemir had given instructions to the younger Witchers.

"Of course you can," Vesemir said, looking surprised by the request. "Just don't try to match them."

"There's honestly no worries about that," Jaskier said, watching Geralt, Eskel, and Lambert race each other despite being told to slowly jog the laps.

Whatever had gone down yesterday had clearly been put to rest, all three horsing around like a rowdy band of puppies. Jaskier was surprised Vesemir wasn't putting a stop to it considering how strict he was with practice from what Geralt had told. Maybe he didn't care too much until they were doing combat training. Or maybe Vesemir just preferred them to get all that out of their systems before the serious part started.

"Jog as many laps at your own pace as you can until those three are finished with theirs," Vesemir said.

"Thanks," Jaskier said and removed his cloak before jogging off.

"Boys! Don't trample Jaskier!" Vesemir called out, getting affirmative shouts back.

It came as absolutely no surprise to Jaskier that he managed to finish only a few rounds before the time was up. And that he had had to give up on jogging and switch to walking.

After catching his breath Jaskier started on the stretches alongside the others, slightly distracted by trying to figure out what were the imperfections Vesemir was seeing in their stances. He honestly couldn't tell what difference it made for Geralt to shift his left leg third of an inch forward or Eskel to rotate his hips a miniscule amount to the right but apparently they were crucial improvements.

"Geralt seems to have shown you just enough to make sure you won't accidentally hurt yourself," Vesemir said, coming to stand in front of Jaskier.

Diplomatic way of saying he was doing everything wrong.

"That sums it up." Jaskier nodded.

"I won't nudge or arrange you into the correct poses. First, mirror me as closely as you can and afterwards I'll direct you verbally," Vesemir said, smoothly falling into the first stance and holding still until Jaskier was ready.

"Relax your knees and lower your centre of gravity. Right arm closer to your torso. No, don't shift your shoulders, keep them straight," Vesemir instructed, watching Jaskier critically. "Now take a slow step forward with your left foot and bring your arms down."

The slow movements had always been deceivingly demanding but now that he was finally doing them the way they were supposed to be, they were even harder.

Didn't leave him much time to think about anything but what he was doing.

"That's enough, Jaskier," Vesemir said.

"Ye-yeah," Jaskier agreed, taking deep breaths and annoyed how exhausted he felt.

"You should join most days if possible. It'd do only good for you," Vesemir said seriously.

"I'd like that." Jaskier nodded, wiping sweat off his forehead and averting his eyes. "It's… I used to be in great shape. Not that it shows anymore. It'd be nice to regain some of it."

"I understand," Vesemir said. "It'll be a good goal for you to work toward."

"Vesemir…" Jaskier started hesitantly. "I was wondering… Could I talk to you later? Alone?"

"Of course you can," Vesemir said, eyes searching. "Do you want me to come find you or send Geralt after the training is done for the day?"

"Don't bother Geralt," Jaskier said quietly. "He already does too much for me."

"I'm sure he doesn't see it like that," Vesemir said. "But I'll find you after I'm done here."

"Thank you."

"I'll see you in two hours or so," Vesemir said before focusing on the training again, pointing out a flaw in Geralt's form.

Wandering back inside Jaskier wished he had the courage to head to the hot springs alone but the knowledge that he'd have to walk past the bathtubs was too much. It was ridiculous. They'd be behind the folding screens. Not visible. Someone might have moved the screens. They might be visible.

Fucking bathtubs.

…Not that getting into water alone might be the wisest choice either.

Fuck his brain.

With an irritated huff Jaskier headed back to Geralt's and his room, hoping they weren't out of water.

Closing the door behind him made some of the tension leave Jaskier's frame. Moving around alone was still making him nervous despite it being far, far easier than before. Being separated from Geralt was still just as difficult. Already the anxiety was starting to slowly worsen. Nothing to do about it except trying to ignore it the best he could and remember it was safe here.

And Geralt was close by.

Sighing, Jaskier removed his cloak and poured water into a bowl. He should ask Geralt where he could find an actual wash basin but for now that would be good enough. It wasn't as if he would even be throughout, it'd just make him feel worse and there was the conversation with Vesemir to get through too. It'd already be hard without having made himself scared beforehand.

The water was ice cold as Jaskier splashed his face.

It didn't take long to give himself a cursory wash to get rid of the worst of the dried sweat and change clothes.

Jaskier wasn't sure if the cold shivers running down his spine were because of the water or having been temporarily partly undressed.

Grabbing the astronomy book he had been reading, Jaskier laid down on the spare mattress. Perhaps it was strange using Geralt's bed for resting but the faint and familiar scent in the bedding was grounding. He knew Geralt would notice immediately he had done so but Jaskier doubted he'd mind. Geralt wasn't particularly subtle with the way he tended to take deep breaths through his nose when they hugged, whether or not the Witcher was even conscious of doing so. Maybe he should ask Geralt if he could borrow a shirt. They were so lovely to wear, almost like continuous hugs.

It was difficult to focus on the words on the pages, impossible to retain any of the information.

Jaskier couldn't stop wondering if asking to talk with Vesemir was the right decision after all. Couldn't stop the worsening anxiety of staying alone.

The beads were familiar underneath his fingers.

Vesemir's voice and the knocking on the door made Jaskier startle badly enough for him to almost drop the book.

"Just– Just a moment!" Jaskier called out, scrambling up to grab his weighted blanket, slip his boots on, and hurry to the door.

"Sorry. I mean, thanks for coming to get me," Jaskier said, hugging the blanket. "Could we talk in your study? I don't want the others to accidentally overhear…"

"Of course." Vesemir nodded, starting to lead the way.

"So, what do you want to talk about," Vesemir asked once he had taken a seat.

"I… I think… I think I should tell you what happened," Jaskier said barely audibly, standing nervously by the opposite chair. "It's… I know Geralt won't talk to you about anything related to it before I have done so and he really needs to…"

"Jaskier, no. You shouldn't do this, not if it's just for Geralt," Vesemir said seriously. "It would only be detrimental to you. Don't do that to yourself."

For a moment Jaskier only stared at the floor before shaking his head. "It's not just for Geralt's sake. But you really don't have to listen if you don't want to. I– I'll have a bad reaction to talking about it. Can't say how bad. But it won't be pretty. At all."

Vesemir deserved only upright honesty, a warning what he'd get himself into if he decided to listen.

"I'm glad to listen as long as you're doing it for your own sake, not anyone else's. Not even Geralt's," Vesemir said. "Can you tell me what sort of reaction you might have?"

"Might cause a flashback, maybe bad enough for me to lose all contact with reality, get sucked wholly in the memory," Jaskier said, knowing he was blushing in shame. "Or a bad panic attack. Worst ones… Worst ones can make me even vomit. Leave me so panicked I have hard time recognizing anything but the panic itself. It's bad. Might also lose the control of my limbs, just collapse. Honestly, you don't have to involve yourself with that."

"I would like to help," Vesemir said without judgment in his tone. "It's true those are violent reactions but you don't have to worry you'd disturb or inconvenience me if they happened."

"You're sure?" Jaskier asked, voice cracking.

"I am." Vesemir nodded.

"Thank you. So much."

Vesemir gave him a small smile. "Jaskier, I'm here for you. If you need help, all you have to do is ask."

It was too kind.

"How do you want to do this?" Vesemir asked. "Should you sit on the floor in case you do collapse? It could be potentially dangerous for you to fall from a chair."

"That… That might be a good idea," Jaskier agreed. "I was sitting on the ground or laying in bed the previous times."

"Take a seat wherever you want," Vesemir said, moving to empty a bucket he was using for trash.

The reason caused a flash of embarrassment to shoot through Jaskier.

It felt strange to go sit on the floor for the conversation despite often doing so with Geralt. With Vesemir it just felt wrong, like it was too informal. Jaskier couldn't deny having his back against a wall and the door in sight did make him feel a miniscule amount better.

"Take your time Jaskier and remember that you can stop any time you want to," Vesemir said, coming to sit in front of Jaskier and place the bucket within his reach. "One more thing, at what point do you want me to get Geralt?"

It was strange how throughout Vesemir was in his preparations to make sure this would be as easy as possible. Really, it wasn't necessary. It wasn't as if previous times had had any foreplanning and he had survived those.

"Uhhh… It might be a good idea not to leave me alone during the worst of it but you could try calling for him as long as you don't shout right by me?" Jaskier said awkwardly.

"I'll do that if needed and help you find him afterwards in any case," Vesemir said.

"Thank you," Jaskier said before falling silent for a while.

Vesemir stayed quiet and still, just waiting.

"It started… I got hired –sought out in fact– to perform at a minor king's, Marden's, feast," Jaskier started, wrapping his weighted blanket around himself. "It was all normal until… until he took me for a walk in his garden."

Gods, this hurt.

"He wanted me to stay," Jaskier said, voice hitching with impending tears. "I didn't want to."

"He didn't like my refusal." Here came the tears. "Threatened– Threatened to kill Geralt. Cut his head off. Make me watch and slowly kill me afterwards."

It was difficult to get the words out. Difficult to breath. Every word, every memory was like a knife sinking in.

Vesemir stayed blessedly silent.

Jaskier doubted he could continue if interrupted.

"Geralt got _stabbed_ for trying to get me away," Jaskier choked out. "Almost beheaded. I _watched_ the sword slowly sinking into the skin of his throat."

There wasn't air in the room. Jaskier kept speaking.

"Marden took me to a guest bedroom." He didn't want to think about what followed.

He didn't.

He didn't.

He didn't.

"Mar– Marden… He… took– took my doublet off. Ra-ran his hands up almost my whole torso while doing so. Pushed… pushed me to sit on the bed. Cleaned my face. Arranged my hair, it was longer then. Left me alone for the night."

There were hands petting his hair.

Running along his body.

Jaskier wanted the phantom to stop touching him.

Pressing his forehead against his knees wasn't helping.

"In the morning… A bathtub was brought. Made me ba-bathe in front of him. Said he _'indulged me for now'_ by turning away while I undressed." His words were probably an incomprehensible warble by now.

Vesemir wasn't saying anything.

_"He washed my hair,"_ Jaskier whispered. He could feel the water and smell soap.

There were hands massaging his scalp.

Jaskier's were tangled in his bead necklace.

"I have scars on my lower back. Marden didn't– didn't like it. Touched them. Beat me." A chair leg hitting his back made Jaskier flinch. "Stopped… Stopped _indulging_ me. Wa-wa-watched me get dressed. It– it was so clear what… what he wanted. I would have let him. I would– I promised. I promised to do anything. _Anything._ If only Geralt would live. I wou-would have let him –would have faked loving it– let him…"

How could one word be so fucking hard to say?

"Let him– r-r-ra-ra–"

He didn't want to say it.

Not again.

Never again.

He couldn't get rid of the thought. Or the terror. It was a constant companion. Lived in his bones. Circulated in his blood. Rattled in his brain. Compressed his lungs.

"My fault. Should have known," Jaskier croaked instead. "Should have seen. Promised him. Could have been worse."

Vesemir took a sharp inhale.

Jaskier could feel what little grip he still had on reality starting to slip. Marden's voice joined the sickening touches. It was hard to recognize his surroundings. Every other blink showed the steaming bathtub and the room he had tried to destroy.

_Everything hurt so much._

Jaskier knew he needed to say what he was avoiding wording.

Needed.

There were porcelain pieces burrowing into his left sole.

Marden's breath smelled like fresh oranges.

Jaskier wondered if he had a body anymore. He was made from sensations and pain. A ghost with its own phantom. He couldn't feel the beads.

Maybe he wasn't wearing them.

He could feel the luxurious mattress he was sitting on.

Jaskier wasn't sure if he had a mouth to speak with.

"Would– Would have let– If had stayed little longer–"

_"Let's make you more comfortable."_

"An hour, few minutes–"

_"Tell me, are your bed partners bothered by the contrast between your scars and the smooth skin?"_

"He would have–"

_"At least your face remains flawless. Such beautiful wide blue eyes."_

"He would have ra-ra-raped me."

_"Your lips are so soft."_

Jaskier hadn't remembered Marden briefly running his thumb over his bottom lip while tenderly cleaning his face.

He didn't want to remember it now either.

"Geralt, focus," Eskel said, snapping his fingers.

With great reluctance Geralt wrenched his eyes away from the closest entrance to the keep in favor of looking at Eskel.

"I'm focused," Geralt grunted.

"Sure. On Jaskier, that is," Lambert said. "Come on, we're supposed to continue training."

"Vesemir isn't here," Geralt pointed out.

"That's what free training means generally," Eskel said. "You did hear him giving the order, didn't you?"

"Yes." He hadn't.

Both Eskel and Lambert looked doubtful.

"Feel like having a rematch?" Lambert asked.

"No."

"Afraid you'd lose?"

"No."

"Did Vesemir take your ability to speak with him?" Lambert huffed.

"No."

"Asshole."

"Geralt, Jaskier will be just fine with Vesemir," Eskel said. "You don't have to worry about something happening to him."

Geralt knew nothing new would happen. Jaskier was perfectly safe with Vesemir. It didn't mean he couldn't get hurt, the others didn't really understand how badly Jaskier's own thoughts tore at him. How badly Jaskier could react to talking about what happened to him. Not that he knew for sure that was why Jaskier had asked to talk with Vesemir but the odds were good.

Geralt wished he could be there to help him.

He knew Jaskier didn't want him to be.

Knew it was important for Jaskier to face things alone.

Geralt hoped he wouldn't be called to pick up the pieces. Hoped Jaskier would be alright after the talk. He didn't have much faith in it. Not if the topic was what he thought it was.

There was a snap of fingers again.

"Geralt, you really can't train like this. It'd just lead to a catastrophe," Eskel said with a frown. "What are you so worried about?"

"...Jaskier." There was no denying it.

"Yes, we know that. It's your default but what's worrying you specifically?" Eskel asked.

"He… Doesn't react well to talking about what happened. At all," Geralt said, crossing his arms. "I think he'll do that."

"Wouldn't talking do him good?"

"It will. Later. Not at the moment he does so. You saw his reaction when he told you about his triggers," Geralt said seriously. "That was mild."

"Oh fuck," Eskel breathed, eyes widening.

"What happened?" Lambert asked, clearly irked about not knowing.

"He started crying, teetered on the edge of a panic attack," Geralt said bluntly. It wasn't as if it was restricted knowledge. "Also, that attack you saw when he tried to give you a performance wasn't too bad. If he's opening up to Vesemir about what he survived, it'll be far worse."

"Fuck," Lambert echoed Eskel with feeling.

Geralt agreed.

"I wish I could be there for him," Geralt said, looking at the door again.

"Geralt, you can't do everything for him," Eskel said, placing a hand on Geralt's shoulder. "You need to let him face things by himself."

"I know," Geralt grunted.

He really did.

"Good. It'd be bad for both of you if he couldn't do that." Eskel nodded. "Geralt, you've been burning yourself out with helping him. I understand why and that there weren't really any alternatives but you're here now. You don't have to do that anymore."

It felt like he needed to.

Jaskier was …unstable. Geralt didn't like the word but he couldn't think of a better one. It didn't take much to throw Jaskier off-balance, to cause him to spiral. He just hadn't healed enough yet to be able to handle very much. Getting better but not yet there.

"It's not that easy," Geralt said, avoiding Eskel's eyes.

"No shit?" Lambert said. "It's not like we're fixing a broken wagon wheel."

Geralt couldn't hold back an amused snort at Lambert using the same metaphor as he had once.

"What?" Lambert bristled. "Got a problem with us not wanting you to flounder around like an idiot?"

"I'm not floundering," Geralt protested.

He was and everyone could surely see it.

"Like hell you're not. You even said it yourself a couple of days ago."

Shit. He had.

"Hnn."

"Geralt, you're hurting," Eskel said. Noticing Geralt opening his mouth, he continued, "No, don't try to give that spiel about Witchers having no emotions. In case you haven't noticed we're all Witchers so you can save your breath. Besides, have you met Lambert?"

"Well, excuse me for being pissed about not having a say about my own life," Lambert snapped.

"See?" Eskel said, gesturing at Lambert. "Emotions."

"Fuck you, Eskel!"

"Geralt, you need some distance from all that's going on with Jaskier," Eskel said, ignoring Lambert.

"No," Geralt said immediately. "He needs me."

"I'm not telling you to ignore him. But Geralt, you need some time and space to start untangling whatever is circling in that head of yours. Try to start taking more time for yourself," Eskel said. "Jaskier is safe here, no one is going to hurt him. It's okay not to constantly guard him. And you have us."

"Hmmm."

"Think about it, okay?"

Eskel had no reason to look that worried.

"...Sure," Geralt said.

"Geralt!" Vesemir's voice called out, making them all turn as one and spot him leaning out of his study's window. "Come."

"Fuck," Geralt breathed and started running, not paying attention to anything but getting to the study as fast as he could.

He had _known_ something would go wrong.

The sounds coming from the study were enough to wrench his heart before even seeing Jaskier.

"Jaskier, Jaskier, it's safe. You're safe. Focus on me," Geralt said, dropping to his knees in front of Jaskier. "You're safe, having a flashback. It's not real. Look around, you're in Kaer Morhen. You're safe. Just tell me what you see."

There wasn't any response, not that Geralt had really expected there to be. Not when Jaskier was this fully submerged in a memory. There was nothing else to do than talk, try to give him something not part of the flashback to cling on. To only watch as Jaskier struggled to breathe between his cries, to watch Jaskier flinch from things only he could perceive.

To keep talking.

Vesemir had fallen quiet the moment Geralt had arrived.

There were only Geralt's voice and Jaskier's sobs filling the study.

It took far too long for recognition to slowly return to Jaskier's eyes. "...Ge… …Ger– Geralt…?"

"Yes. Yes, Jaskier. It's me. You're safe. In Kaer Morhen. That bastard is dead. It's safe. Do you remember?" Geralt said. He wanted to take Jaskier into his arms, to soothe the tremors and tears away. Keep him safe.

"Mmhmm."

"I promise you're safe. Can you sit up?" Geralt asked.

"Mmmm." Jaskier didn't make a single move to get up from the floor where he had protectively curled up.

"It's okay. Take your time," Geralt said softly before turning to Vesemir. "Could you bring him water?"

With a nod Vesemir quickly fulfilled the request.

"Jaskier, you need to drink. It'll help with the headache you'll have," Geralt said.

There was no reaction.

"Jaskier." Please.

With a shuddering breath Jaskier slowly sat up, leaning heavily against the wall. There was no color left on his face. It was a minor miracle he didn't spill all the water with the way his hands shook.

But the action did seem to ground him a little bit more.

"...Leave…" Jaskier whispered. "...I want to leave…"

"Can you walk?" Geralt asked, highly doubtful.

The way Jaskier curled tighter into himself was an answer enough.

"We'll have to wait a little longer then. Jaskier, it's safe here. It's okay," Geralt said. He wished he could grant Jaskier's request.

"...Carry me…?" Jaskier murmured so quietly Geralt wasn't sure if he heard him right.

"What?"

"Carry me…?" Jaskier repeated, voice slightly steadier.

"Jaskier, that's…" Probably not a good idea.

"Please?" Jaskier asked, reaching out with both hands.

Geralt didn't have the strength to keep questioning it.

"How do you want to do this?" Geralt asked, moving closer and adding, "You can touch me."

It appeared to be what Jaskier had been waiting for since the next second they were chest to chest and Jaskier's arms around Geralt's neck.

"Like this?" Geralt asked, surprised.

"Yeah…" Jaskier mumbled into Geralt's shirt, tightening his grip. "Want you close."

Geralt knew this wasn't an appropriate moment for his heart to do somersaults but it didn't stop it from happening.

"Is it okay if I hold you underneath your knees and around the shoulder blades?" Geralt asked, not daring to take hold of Jaskier before getting explicit consent.

"Yeah." Jaskier nodded. It was the most decisive answer so far.

"Tell me the second you start feeling uncomfortable," Geralt said seriously, gently lifting Jaskier into his arms. The bard was far, far too light.

There was another nod.

"...Vesemir, I'm so sorry…" Jaskier whispered. Geralt could feel the grip on his shirt tightening.

"Nonsense. There's nothing to be sorry for," Vesemir refuted immediately. "Thank you for trusting me with what happened."

Good. Jaskier really had shared.

It'd be a tremendous help to him once the shock of it would wear off.

"Mmmm." Jaskier didn't sound very believing.

Not that Jaskier ever could think even halfway objectively when he was in this state. Trying to press him only made things worse.

"I'm being completely sincere, Jaskier," Vesemir said.

"Time to get going," Geralt said, walking out of the room to cut the conversation short.

The quick trek to their room was completely silent if not counting the way Jaskier's breaths still had a slight hitch to them. Feeling him tremble in his arms made Geralt want to tighten his hold and press Jaskier more firmly against his chest.

"Jaskier, I'll put you down on the bed now," Geralt said, not wanting to accidentally surprise Jaskier with anything.

"No."

Jaskier didn't seem to have the same idea about surprises.

"Okay?"

"Not on the bed, please," Jaskier mumbled. "Floor. I don't– I don't want to feel the mattress."

Oh.

"Okay," Geralt repeated, kneeling down and letting Jaskier move out of his embrace to lean against the wall. He'd prefer Jaskier to just lay down on the bed and go to sleep but it wasn't his call.

"What do you need?" Geralt asked.

"You."

_Oh._

"You have me," Geralt said sincerely. "I'm not going anywhere. But I think you should drink more water and take a painkiller for the headache. Don't try to deny one is building."

"Stay," Jaskier said, looking at him pleadingly. Geralt wondered whether he was registering the words properly or still too disoriented for it.

"Jaskier, I'm not leaving. You'll see me the whole time. I'll be right by your side in a minute," Geralt said, making sure to speak simply just in case. He didn't know if it was plain insulting thing to do or if it was necessary.

In any case Jaskier just nodded so Geralt hurried to do what he had said he would as quickly as possible.

"Can I sit next to you?" Geralt asked.

"Yes," Jaskier said, taking the offered water from Geralt's hand.

"I told Vesemir everything," Jaskier said quietly after taking a few sips and placing the mug on the floor. "I… I probably should have done it over a few conversations instead."

He really should have.

Geralt stayed silent, not wanting to agree out loud it having been a mistake to do it all at once.

"He knows now exactly how broken I am," Jaskier muttered, voice catching. "He'll look at me differently. I shouldn't have forced him to deal with me in that state."

"No, Jaskier, no. That's not true. You're not broken, you're hurt. It's not the same thing," Geralt said forcefully. "And Vesemir doesn't mind helping you. He's not going to judge you or look at you differently. He won't think you're weak or pathetic. What he sees is a strong man healing from something he shouldn't have ever had to go through."

Jaskier couldn't see what about him was strong.

He also didn't have the energy to argue about it.

All he wanted was, "Hold me?"

"Really?" Geralt asked, his tone mix of disbelief and hope.

"Yes," Jaskier said. "But… I… I feel Marden all over. I understand if you don't want to dirty yourself."

"Jaskier," Geralt said, voice raw. "I don't care. Not in the way you're thinking. There's nothing dirty about you, nothing. I want to hold you if you're sure about it."

Want. Such a hard word for Geralt to say.

"Yes," Jaskier whispered, turning to hug Geralt. Cling to him. "Please hold me."

The strong arms winding around his upper back made him feel so safe. Geralt wouldn't let anything happen. Wouldn't let anyone touch him.

Jaskier wished Geralt's touch could soothe the phantom hands to the background each time. He didn't dare to hope. Not with the way this was the first time it was happening. But maybe, maybe this also wouldn't be the last one.

"Do you want me to let go?" Geralt asked, making Jaskier realize that slow tears had started to roll down his cheeks.

"No." Jaskier shook his head. "Please don't."

In emphasis Jaskier shifted to hug Geralt tighter, trying to get as close as possible without climbing in his lap. It didn't feel enough. Anything more would be too much.

Geralt was real.

Marden's hands weren't.

Weren't.

Geralt's were.

Real and safe.

He was safe in his arms

"Geralt, I'm so sorry I keep making you go through this time and time again," Jaskier mumbled into Geralt's shirt. "My episodes do eventually end by themselves without help. You don't have to abandon everything you're doing to hurry to my side."

"I won't leave you to handle them alone if possible. You're not forcing me to do anything," Geralt said resolutely. "Jaskier, I haven't changed my mind. I'm choosing you. I'm choosing to be with you."

Jaskier could feel Geralt tense up and take a shaky breath, tone turning gruff. "Falling– Falling in love with you wasn't a choice. Everything else is. And being with you is… is what I want."

"Oh, Geralt, my love. You're too good to me. So amazing. I love you so much," Jaskier whispered, leaning back enough to be able to lock eyes. "I too want to be with you. It's all I've wanted for a long time."

It was incredibly endearing how Geralt ducked his head, trying to hide his faintly blushing cheeks.

"Don't hide, my dearest. There's nothing to be embarrassed about," Jaskier said softly.

"Hmmm."

"There's not."

"Hmmm."

"Geralt? Is it okay for me to sleep like this?" Jaskier asked, feeling last of his strength running out.

"Of course but take the painkiller first," Geralt said, lifting his head.

"Thank you. I just… I just really don't want to use the bed right now," Jaskier said, reaching for the potion. He wouldn't admit it to Geralt but his headache was starting to reach the point of distraction.

"You don't have to. Not if you don't want to," Geralt reassured him.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. It's your choice where you want to stay."

Sometimes it still felt strange to have a choice. It shouldn't be. But it was. To be able to decide and not have to worry about something terrible happening because of it was a precious thing. Often hard to believe too.

"...You'll make sure it's safe to sleep, won't you?" Jaskier asked, knowing the answer but needing to hear the confirmation.

He didn't want to be wrong.

He wouldn't be able to bear it.

"It's safe. Just close your eyes, Jaskier. I'll be here when you wake up," Geralt said, voice so tender Jaskier's heart hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. But hey, now Vesemir is in the loop...! And Jaskier got some heavy-duty comfort afterwards. 
> 
> Sorry about being so behind on answering the comments! December has just been a busy month. I'll start answering them as soon as I can. Honestly, I love each and every one! ❤️❤️❤️


	11. Chapter 11

Jaskier wasn't surprised when he was completely drained the next morning. He had known it'd happen. He hated it. Hated not having the strength to do anything but close his eyes again and turn to his other side. Maybe if he slept for a little longer he'd have the energy to face the day. Maybe sleep would make the headache disappear.

It didn't help much.

At least he managed to sit up and keep the few bites of lunch down despite the twisting in his gut.

Geralt had such a worried expression again.

Jaskier closed his eyes, not wanting to see it.

At Geralt's insistent urging he dragged himself off the bed to attend dinner downstairs. He made it only to the first staircase before his anxiety surged, forcing him to stumble back to their room. It took too long for his heartbeat to calm down again. He couldn't keep his dinner down.

Jaskier hoped he could stand being touched the next time he'd awake.

He yearned for it.

The thought of being even brushed against made him want to throw up again.

There were too many hands on him as it was.

Hopefully tomorrow would be better. Easier at least.

Nightfall was a blessing, allowing him to sleep without guilt.

"...Hi, Geralt," Jaskier said, voice rough from disuse. It felt like he could count the words he had said yesterday with his fingers.

"Jaskier? How are you feeling?" Geralt asked, focusing on him.

"Better," Jaskier said honestly. "I knew yesterday would be bad. I just didn't think it'd be that bad."

"Hmmm." Geralt nodded. "Can you get up? Go get breakfast downstairs?"

It wasn't an appealing idea but Jaskier knew he should try to be more active, to fight against the urge to stay in bed. That wouldn't accomplish anything.

"...Sure," Jaskier agreed, unable to keep all of his hesitancy out of his tone.

"Great. I'll wait outside," Geralt said briskly, probably not wanting to leave him time to back out.

With a deep sigh Jaskier heaved himself out of the bed, feeling unpleasantly stiff. Yesterday really had been fucking terrible but at least it wouldn't take much for today to be far better. For example, he was already up and changing his clothes. It was more than yesterday.

It felt like a huge win when he stepped into the kitchen after Geralt.

Jaskier was glad the room was empty, too late in the morning for the others to be still milling around. Having a little more time to gather himself was welcomed. Especially before seeing Vesemir. Despite Geralt's assurances Jaskier couldn't quite believe nothing had changed now that the old Witcher knew what had happened. After seeing him having one of his worst flashbacks to date, just completely breaking down in front of him.

"Stop destroying the table," Geralt huffed, making Jaskier realize he had been trying to groove it with a butter knife.

Good thing it was blunt and wooden.

"Shit! Sorry!" Jaskier said, slamming the knife onto the table and lifting his hands in the air.

"Hmmm."

An amused hum. Geralt didn't actually mind. Good.

To make sure he wouldn't accidentally start sawing the kitchen table with the serrated bread knife in front of him, Jaskier got up to get them utensils and grab the herbal blend for his tea while Geralt finished cooking eggs.

It was peaceful, just spending some time like this.

"Could we go see Roach? I need to apologize to her for not coming to brush her yesterday," Jaskier said, doing his best to actually eat and not just push his food around. It was slow going but at least it was manageable.

That too was improvement.

He'd take any right now, no matter how small or silly from an outside perspective.

"Sure." Geralt nodded, looking far less tense than an hour ago.

Another improvement. Geralt didn't deserve living in constant stress, worrying about him.

The half empty tea mug in Jaskier's hands was warm, feeling pleasant under his chilly fingers. It was strange, having almost constantly cold hands nowadays, even back when it had been summer. Jaskier wondered if it was a manifestation of the constant undercurrent of the cold fear. It sounded fitting. Giving a little romanticism to his state, making it sound a bit more poetic.

"Geralt, could you give me a heads-up if we're being approached?" Jaskier asked. "I still feel really jumpy. I'd rather not be surprised by someone rounding a corner or something."

"I'll do that," Geralt agreed.

"Thanks," Jaskier said before falling silent, just focusing on his tea. It was warm.

Unlike the freezing air outside.

"Lambert is in the stable," Geralt said, stopping in front of the door and looking at Jaskier.

"That's okay," Jaskier said. The prospect of seeing –being seen by– anyone was uncomfortable and he still wasn't quite sure how to act around Lambert but it was alright.

"Finally up, huh?" Lambert said as they entered. "Good to see that."

"Mmhmm," Jaskier hummed before finding his voice again. "Thanks. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to inconvenience anyone."

"How the hell could you inconvenience anyone when you're not even there?" Lambert asked.

"Mmmm."

"Shit. That came out wrong," Lambert backpedaled. "Meant that you didn't bother us. It was just fine."

"Thanks," Jaskier said, relieved. Lambert wasn't one to censor himself about things that irked him. Made it harder to doubt what he had said.

Jaskier wandered to Roach, delighted when she greeted him by pressing her head gently against his chest.

"I missed you too, sweetheart. Sorry I didn't come to brush you yesterday. Were you properly taken care of?" Jaskier asked, scratching her neck just below the mane.

"Of course she was," Geralt huffed, handing him a brush.

"But did you get kisses? I bet you didn't," Jaskier said, giving her a peck on her velvety muzzle.

"Ha, Jaskier seems more taken with Roach than you, Geralt!" Lambert cackled, watching them.

Geralt grumbled something incomprehensible as an answer.

"I do have admiration for beautiful ladies," Jaskier said distractedly, concentrating on making sure Roach's coat would shine like a king's steed would. She deserved nothing less.

"How does it feel like to play second fiddle to your horse?" Lambert asked Geralt, grinning widely.

"Shut up, Lambert," Geralt grunted.

Geralt would surely like a peck of his own. Maybe he should try to give one later.

Sit with him at least. Possibly hold hands.

Jaskier let the world fade to the background, convinced it was safe to do since Geralt –nor Lambert probably– wouldn't let something happen to him. Not that there actually was anything threatening here. Most likely. But it was a possibility. There was always a possibility no matter how small it might be.

It felt good focusing on the repetitive movements of brushing Roach, feeling the soft winter fur and the warmth of her. It helped his thoughts slow down, gave him an extra sense of security with its familiarity. Roach was so incredibly patient with him. Let him ride, dote on her, seek comfort and hug her, even cling to her mane and press tightly against her when things started to get overwhelming. The clinging part couldn't be enjoyable in any way or shape for her. But she still didn't protest unless it was an accidental sudden tug.

"Thank you, Roach," Jaskier whispered, switching to combing her mane and creating a running braid with deft fingers.

"Jaskier, give me some dirt on Geralt," Lambert said. "I won't believe for a second he hasn't constantly embarrassed himself while traveling with you."

"Dirt, huh?" Jaskier turned to look at Geralt.

"Don't you dare," Geralt hissed through his teeth.

Geralt was right. The wrestling with a worm should wait until he had his lute for the ditty.

"Hmmm, it was almost right after we reunited this spring–"

Geralt's groan interrupted him.

"–that he fell through a floor–" Jaskier continued. "–right into a cesspit."

First it had been heartstopping, then hilarious and absolutely disgusting. Thankfully Geralt had had a very throughout bath within half an hour.

"I like how literally you took that." Lambert grinned. "What else?"

"Stop it," Geralt said.

"Once he got drunk and moaned the whole evening how cats don't let him pet them," Jaskier said. "He was especially sad that he has never felt how it feels when a cat purrs."

"I didn't do that," Geralt protested. "I don't even like cats."

"Yes you do," Jaskier and Lambert said at the same time.

"It's Lambert who likes cats," Geralt said pointedly.

"Fuck you!" Lambert said, giving Geralt the finger.

There had to be some story there. Maybe he should ask about it at some point.

"Well, I'm done here," Lambert said, throwing the last handful of seeds to the chickens. "Want to join me for lunch?"

The offer really highlighted how late in the morning it had been when he had finally been able to get up. Jaskier knew it wouldn't be a bad idea to go get something to eat despite that but…

"Jaskier?" Geralt asked.

"I…" Jaskier mumbled.

"Hey, it's okay if you don't feel like it," Lambert said. "Just wanted to ask."

"If… If the others are there it'll be too many people…" It shouldn't be. But it would.

"Want me to kick them out? Because I will," Lambert said.

"No. Don't do that," Jaskier said.

"Fine."

"You should eat, though," Geralt interjected.

_You_. It'd be absolutely irritating how closely Geralt was keeping an eye on his eating habits if it wasn't necessary. Which in itself was annoying. And made him grateful that Geralt constantly bothered doing so.

"Okay," Jaskier sighed.

"Great," Lambert said, heading to the door. "Let's just not stay in the kitchen."

"You've decided to start taking part in the training, huh?" Lambert said, looking up from his plate at Jaskier.

"If you won't mind it. I don't want to get in the way," Jaskier said, poking at his food and trying to summon the willpower to start eating.

"Nah, it's a big area. There's no way you won't fit. Besides, the old man will probably be ecstatic getting to train someone from scratch. Maybe he won't be up our asses as much thanks to it," Lambert said.

"Vesemir wants our forms to be perfect to make sure we have the best chances of defeating monsters," Geralt defended Vesemir.

"Sure, but there's no fucking way you like the way he nitpicks everything and makes it sound like we don't even know which end of a sword to hold," Lambert scoffed.

"He doesn't always do that," Geralt huffed.

"Maybe not." Lambert shrugged. "But fuck if he doesn't have a talent to make you feel humiliated."

"He also lets us know when we're doing good," Geralt pointed out.

Lambert gave a reluctantly agreeing grumble.

"He wants what's best for us," Geralt said, staring at Lambert.

Lambert gave another grumble and looked like he was about to violently stab a carrot only to change his mind and pierce it in a manner fit for a noble's dinner party. Jaskier couldn't help being slightly amused by Lambert's immaculate dining etiquette when compared to his overall mannerism.

"Anyway, you're not going to bother us, Jaskier," Lambert said. "It's not like you're going to flail around with a sword and stab someone or yourself."

"I actually know how to use one," Jaskier said, finally taking a bite. The food tasted just as ashen as in the morning.

"Seriously?" Lambert asked, clearly surprised.

"Yeah. Can't say I'm particularly good at it but I did study it years and years ago," Jaskier said.

"What the hell? You never mentioned that," Lambert accused Geralt.

"Didn't know until this spring," Geralt said.

"How did it come up? Did you two have a se–" Lambert cut off.

Jaskier didn't want to guess at what he had been about to say.

Clearing his throat Lambert tried again. "Did you spontaneously have a sparring session or something?"

"I wish but no," Jaskier said. "I had to kill two nekkers."

"You did fucking what?" Lambert exclaimed loudly, making Jaskier flinch involuntarily.

"It was mostly luck," Jaskier said quietly. "And Geralt wasn't in shape to fight anything. I didn't have a choice."

"I need to hear that story," Lambert said, leaning forward.

"Another time…?" Jaskier mumbled, trying to ignore the phantom flash of pain caused by claws slashing his lower back and the feeling of fingers running over the scars left from them.

"Sure. You don't actually have to share," Lambert said, sounding almost concerned.

"Mmhmm."

Shit. Words. Now wasn't the time for them to slip away. Not that there ever was a good time for it.

"Thanks…" Jaskier said, voice shaking. At least it was an actual word.

"Nah, nothing to thank me for." Lambert shrugged. "It's your choice."

"Thanks…"

"I said you don't have to do that."

"Sorry…"

"There's already been more than enough stories about me," Geralt cut in.

Dear, dear Geralt. Making sure he didn't have time to get caught in a loop. That man was far too good to him. So kind. Even patient when it came to him and Jaskier knew perfectly well that patience wasn't one of Geralt's strongest virtues.

"No, there hasn't," Lambert said. "But I guess it's my turn to share."

It was nice, just listening instead of being the active participant. Jaskier really hadn't realized how taxing conversations could be before all this. He missed being able to keep chattering about everything and nothing for hours. Although, his newfound silences were probably a blessing to Geralt's ears.

Jaskier wasn't exactly sure how it had happened but suddenly his fork poked the now empty plate instead of the expected food. It was a nice surprise. Tiny and significant.

It didn't take long after that for Lambert to finish his tale and bid them goodbye, looking strangely satisfied.

"Geralt, could you accompany me to the springs?" Jaskier asked, gathering the dirty plates and cutlery.

"Sure," Geralt agreed, leading him to the thankfully empty kitchen. "Want to go after washing the dishes?"

"I'd like that." Jaskier nodded, starting on the plates.

It felt wonderful to submerge, letting the hot water muffle the world. Muffle his thoughts. Wash everything away. Lift the grime from his skin. It wasn't just the weightlessness of the water that made Jaskier feel lighter.

It was disappointing having to come up for air.

"Geralt, I was thinking that I'd like to try getting close to a bathtub. See one at least," Jaskier said once he finished gasping for air after diving for too long. "It's been ages since the last time."

"Really? You've been more anxious than usual today. Not to mention the flashback and yesterday…" Geralt said, sounding doubtful.

Jaskier couldn't blame him for it.

"I honestly feel much better than in the morning," Jaskier said. "Strange how eating and getting clean can help, huh?"

"Hmmm."

"Spending time with Lambert was nice too. I really do want to get to know him better," Jaskier continued.

Geralt gave a sigh before nodding. "I'll trust your judgment but I'll remove you from the situation if I deem it necessary, especially if you can't make the call yourself. Is that still alright with you, Jaskier?"

"Yeah, still fine," Jaskier agreed. "No reason to change things up."

"Want to do it later or once you're done here?" Geralt asked.

"After this. It's… Everything tends to feel easier right after getting clean," Jaskier said, letting water pour back into the spring from his cupped palms. "For how long varies but… I think doing it like this will be the best way. I'll just need to dry myself really well so there won't be any water dripping down."

Water in his hair combined with a bathtub wouldn't go well.

At all.

Speaking of hair, "I'll need to cut my hair soon. It's getting too long."

"Not today," Geralt said immediately.

"Not today," Jaskier echoed. "I'm not stupid enough to tack that on top of everything else."

"I didn't say you're stupid," Geralt huffed, crossing his arms.

"Reckless then." Jaskier shrugged. To keep Geralt from saying anything, Jaskier quickly continued, "I was thinking of tomorrow. It'll be difficult enough without tempting fate with other triggers. I really don't want to end up pushing myself so hard that I'll accidentally incapacitate myself for the rest of the day."

Knowing where his limits were was still difficult but some things at least were obvious.

Like anything involving his hair.

That he had used to love.

Now it was a disgusting feature.

Shaving it all would be even worse.

"Geralt, mind letting me finish here?" Jaskier asked, getting back on track.

"Of course. I'll go move the folding screens around," Geralt said, heading back to the bathing area.

Jaskier knew it had been his own idea but doubt was starting to creep in. He was feeling pretty good. It would evaporate the moment he'd see a fucking bathtub. Working toward getting over the irrational fear should be worth it. Hopefully. And he'd be allowed to leave the situation whenever. Geralt would even make sure he wouldn't get too overwhelmed. He could change his mind, say no. It would be fine.

"I'm done," Jaskier said, tugging nervously at his sleeve and prompting Geralt to come to his side.

"Want to hold my hand?" Geralt asked. "You can touch me any way you want to."

Jaskier took hold of Geralt's hand. It was almost more familiar than his own.

"I revealed the closest tub to us. That way we can walk past it and just leave without stopping or having to see it for long," Geralt said, waiting for Jaskier to start walking.

"Good. That's good," Jaskier said, tensing more with each step. It felt like he was walking on a cracking ice.

He plummeted into the freezing water the moment he saw the bathtub.

It was a fucking bathtub, not something deathly. Everything was screaming for him to run, to hide, to get away from the danger. Jaskier took a shuddering breath and gripped Geralt's hand tighter, legs refusing to keep walking.

He couldn't look away.

"Jaskier, you're safe. Just keep breathing and focus on here and now," Geralt said, apparently not bothered by the almost bruising grip. "Talk to me."

"I'm here," Jaskier mumbled, trying to will his lungs to keep working and tears to stay at bay. "Kaer Morhen. Been months since..."

"Good. You're doing good, Jaskier," Geralt said. "Do you want to take a few steps forward?"

"...Sure." He wasn't sure.

Jaskier took two shaky steps before freezing in place again, pressing close to Geralt. Nothing else was safe. They were in danger. He was so cold again. He couldn't stifle a sob. This was too much. He couldn't–

"No, no, no," Jaskier chanted, pressing his face against Geralt's shoulder to block his vision. "I _can't_ – I–"

"Then we'll leave," Geralt said calmly. "You don't have to look, just let me lead you. I'll get you out of here."

"Mmhmm."

Jaskier pressed himself even closer, blindly taking hesitant steps to follow Geralt's slow movements.

He could hear a door closing.

"We're out of the bathing area. Do you want to go to our room?" Geralt asked.

"...Yeah…" Jaskier hadn't expected getting the word out. "Yeah."

He couldn't unglue himself from Geralt's side. Couldn't look around yet, afraid of what he might see.

"We can walk like this until reaching the staircases. Then you'll have to loosen your grip a bit," Geralt said, taking an awkward step forward and testing whether or not Jaskier would follow.

He did.

"Jaskier, a staircase," Geralt said, stopping.

Jaskier knew he needed to let go of Geralt so they could go upstairs. He just didn't want to. Even for a second.

"You can keep holding my hand," Geralt offered. "Or we can just stand here until you're ready."

Biting his lip, Jaskier shuffled a bit so he was still latched to Geralt's arm but mostly facing forward. His eyes were stinging with tears when he finally opened them.

"Ready?" Geralt asked.

"...Ready," Jaskier agreed, voice weak and hoarse.

The walk to their room didn't take long despite the way it felt like an eternity to Jaskier. The moment they arrived Jaskier tugged at Geralt, steering him to climb on the bed with him. It was a blessing Geralt didn't keep questioning his choice of sharing it after the initial hesitation. All he wanted was for Geralt to stay close.

"Hold me?" Jaskier requested quietly after curling against Geralt, face tucked against his shoulder again.

"Hmmm," Geralt hummed comfortingly, embracing him gently and starting to draw circles through Jaskier's clothes with his thumb.

Things weren't good yet.

But starting to feel slightly better.

Geralt could feel Jaskier tremble against him, fighting his tears and fear. He hoped Jaskier was finding some comfort from the closeness and safety of their room. Hoped Jaskier knew nothing would hurt him here, knew there was nothing to be afraid of.

At least the brief confrontation with the bathtub hadn't caused Jaskier to have a panic attack. Jaskier had even wanted to remove himself from the situation almost immediately, apparently realizing he was about to lose control. It was far better than before.

"Jaskier, you did good," Geralt said, not stopping the soothing movements.

There was a small disbelieving noise.

"You did," Geralt repeated. "You're not having a panic attack. That's a big change for better."

"Need to count my breaths. Can't stop crying," Jaskier said, voice stuffy and shaking.

"You're distressed, not panicking."

"...I guess…" Jaskier mumbled.

"Stop expecting the impossible," Geralt stated, only to realize how harsh it sounded. Quickly, he continued, "Of course you can't suddenly be just fine with seeing a bathtub. Give yourself some credit for handling it better than before."

Geralt wasn't sure how Jaskier managed to hug him even tighter but he did.

"I'm sorry I– Thank you for supporting me, Geralt," Jaskier said, voice getting steadier and tears slowing down. "This is such fucking shitty work, especially to you. You really don't have to do it. I'll… I'll manage. Somehow. I'm good at it, figuring things out by myself. Used to it too. This… This is just…"

"Jaskier, stop," Geralt said firmly. "My choice, your permission."

He really would prefer not to have to repeat the same conversation over and over again but he would. As many times as needed.

"You don't have to figure this out by yourself. You have me. You have the others. The inn family. Your friends. You're not alone and will never be. You have people to lean on."

Jaskier gave a deep shuddering sigh.

"...I hope so. It's hard, letting others see weakness. I know you understand that. In my case it has just always been a different kind of weakness. I can't let my facade break, not with many people. Never have. I need to keep up appearances, not be a bigger disgrace than I already am, gallivanting around as a traveling bard."

"Jaskier…"

"Come on, you've surely figured out by now I'm not on the best of terms with my family. I'm so incredibly happy for you, having your brothers and Vesemir. Me? I try to avoid returning to Lettenhove as much as I can, keep visits to the bare minimum. I much prefer staying away than going back to that stifling place, to all the silent and not so silent disapproval," Jaskier said resolutely, tangling his beads. "Especially now. One glance at me and I'd surely be disowned. Although, that might not be the worst thing to happen to be honest. Then I wouldn't have any ties or obligations. My parents could just adopt someone to replace me, to carry on their legacy."

"That's…" Geralt trailed off, not knowing what to say. How the fuck could anyone _'replace'_ Jaskier?

"It'd be a scandal. Far bigger than what I'm currently doing," Jaskier said, sounding too unbothered by the prospect in Geralt's opinion. "Probably the only thing standing between them actually having done it already. And the fact that not that many recognize me when I go about my life as Jaskier."

"Which _is_ my name as much if not more than my given one. It's not just a stage name or alias," Jaskier added with a spiteful undercurrent. "I _chose_ it. I _chose_ my life. No one is going to take it away from me."

"I know," Geralt said. "There's no way you'd let anyone do that."

Not Marden. Not his parents either, apparently. Jaskier had far too much fighting spirit and sheer stubbornness to let himself be broken and tamed.

"Damn right," Jaskier spat, yanking his beads so hard Geralt feared they might break. "My life is a fucking miserable mess but it's mine."

"It's not miserable," Geralt protested, having no idea how to respond to the other parts of Jaskier's speech.

He wished he did.

"I am," Jaskier said, voice getting quieter. "Not all the time, not anymore. You've been right, it's slowly getting better but there's this almost constant ache inside of me. It hurts."

"Let me carry some of the weight," Geralt said sincerely.

He'd take it all if there only was a way. Every shred.

"You shouldn't," Jaskier said. "But you already are and I'm both so sorry and so grateful for it. You make this bearable, give me hope. Make me believe I can heal, at least a little bit."

That was good news.

"I don't want to stay broken," Jaskier whispered.

"You're not broken," Geralt said, not having to even think about the familiar words. "You said it yourself, you're hurt. Just… Keep sharing, don't hold it all in."

"Geralt, you need to take your own advice and talk more about what's going on with you," Jaskier said seriously. "I know you're hesitant to talk about everything with me and I understand that but your family is here. Let them hear what you can't bring yourself to tell me."

"It helps," Jaskier added with a wry smile. "It's fucking painful –to me at least– but after a while it starts working."

"Hmmm."

Geralt knew Jaskier was right. Objectively at least. He still wasn't sure if he wanted to do it.

"Geralt…?" Jaskier asked hesitantly, eyes flicking between Geralt's eyes and lips.

"Yes?"

"I want to kiss you but can't… So I was thinking if…" Jaskier mumbled, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "If we could touch foreheads…? I know that's a weird request. You don't have to, really."

"I'd like that," Geralt said, surprised. "Really."

"Really?"

"Really," Geralt echoed, a small smile forming as he saw the badly disguised wonderment in Jaskier's eyes.

Slowly, Jaskier gently placed his hand on Geralt's cheek and guided his head until they could touch.

Geralt couldn't stop a content sigh passing his lips.

He wasn't sure if he had even tried to stifle it.

"You like this?" Jaskier murmured.

"Yeah," Geralt whispered, not wanting to disturb anything and feeling weirdly bashful. "Feels… intimate. Special."

"Oh?"

"I've seen you kiss so many people but never do this. It… makes me feel warm," Geralt wasn't sure if that made sense.

"Geralt, my love, you're a marvel," Jaskier said, brushing Geralt's cheek with his thumb. "A stunning, beautiful man, inside out."

"Shut the fuck up," Geralt grumbled, cheeks heating up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the tidbit in the Blood of Elves where Lambert scolds Ciri for her lacking table manners so I had to include a nod to it. :'D
> 
> I'm making some headway with the comments but it's still slow going. But I'll get to them all eventually. ❤️


	12. Chapter 12

"Roach, have you noticed that Jaskier's been doing better lately?" Geralt asked as they walked in the forest through untouched snow. "A couple of hitches but all in all better. A stable environment really is working."

Roach took a few bouncier steps.

Geralt ignored the branch she avoided and decided it was a confirmation.

"He's walking around alone sometimes. Interacting with the others. Even told Vesemir everything. Although, that didn't go well but at least he realized what he did wrong, why it didn't go safely," Geralt continued. "But I'm worried about how little he has been involved in music. Less than before. Hopefully he's just so occupied with everything else that he hasn't really had much time and energy."

Roach snorted, breath creating a white cloud.

"I know, I know. He's free to spend his time as he wants."

"Do you think I too should start talking more about what happened? I… might need it…? Maybe. Probably not. But the others won't stop hounding me if I don't share anything. That will be irritating," Geralt mused. "Saying something once in a while should pacify them."

That would be the only reason. Definitely.

"What about you? Have you had fun?" Geralt asked Roach. "Played nice with Scorpion, Blue, and Brandy, right?"

Roach huffed.

"Good girl." Geralt patted her neck.

"You'll get to spend the whole day outside tomorrow if it's not too cold," Geralt said as they turned around to return to the fortress. "I'll even sneak you a carrot. You deserve it."

Having gone out for a ride first thing after breakfast was freeing. Nothing to carry with him from today or new problems to think about. He felt lighter with the knowledge Jaskier had been having a good morning, making it easier to leave him alone than usual. Maybe he should start doing this as often as possible instead of taking Roach out whenever he had time.

Jaskier couldn't be safer than here.

Apparently not even in his own home.

Jaskier was right, he had figured out that the bard didn't have the best relationship with his family but he hadn't imagined it to be that bad. He just had never asked more about it, sure Jaskier would talk about it by himself if he wanted to share. It wasn't as if Jaskier had had trouble sharing before all this. But in retrospect it was clear how he didn't know much at all about Jaskier's life before Oxenfurt. Had never even heard Jaskier's given name aside from the dean of the Faculty of Trouvèreship and Poetry calling him Pankratz which had to be his last name.

Not that it mattered. Jaskier was Jaskier.

After leading Roach back into the stable and removing her tack Geralt took his time brushing her coat until it shone.

"Stop that," Geralt huffed, amused as Roach tried to affectionately nibble at his hair. "It's not food."

Roach didn't agree until Geralt pushed her head away.

Quickly checking his surroundings, Geralt placed a brief kiss on her muzzle. Jaskier was right, Roach deserved all the kisses. Not that he'd let himself be seen doing it. It was no one's business if he occasionally did so.

"See you later," Geralt said, giving Roach the last few pats.

The moment Geralt stepped out of the stable, he was hit by a sense of danger. There was no time for him to do anything or duck. He could only close his eyes as a snowball hit him in the face.

Geralt didn't need his vision to recognize the laughter.

"What the hell, Lambert?" Geralt grumbled, wiping the remaining snow away.

"You've been looking grumpier that usual. Decided covering that frown is for the best for us all," Lambert said, another snowball in his hand.

"Let's see how happy you'll be with snow melting down your neck," Geralt said, deftly ducking the flying snowball and creating one of his own.

Which Lambert avoided with a pirouette even Vesemir wouldn't be able to find a fault in.

And so the game was on.

Geralt couldn't deny that running around the courtyards and walkways trying to hit Lambert and avoid being pelted with snow was fun.

"There's that laughter!" Lambert exclaimed, diving behind a mound of rubble. "Started to think you had forgotten how to do it."

"Shut up!" Geralt yelled back, trying to smooth down his grin.

"Face the facts, Geralt! You're enjoying yourself!" Lambert said, dashing towards the next cover.

"No, I'm not!" Geralt laughed, sprinting after his brother. "I'm just trying to exterminate a pest!"

Noticing the spot they were at, Geralt abandoned making snowballs and simply charged after Lambert. Managing to get his arms around him, Geralt used his momentum to heave them both over the crumbling parapet and into a deep snowdrift.

"What the fuck?" Lambert wheezed underneath Geralt.

"You weren't snowy enough," Geralt said, stopping protecting the back of Lambert's head but not moving otherwise.

"You're just as snowy now, genius," Lambert said, sounding completely unimpressed.

"An unfortunate side-effect."

"Whatever. Let me up," Lambert said, wriggling.

"No."

"Why the fuck not?" Lambert demanded.

"You're not snowy enough," Geralt stated, tightening his grip to make sure Lambert wouldn't be able to get away.

"Geralt? Are you hugging me?" Lambert asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"No!" Geralt protested immediately.

He was _not_ doing that.

"Let me go then."

"No."

"You're hugging me."

"I'm not," Geralt huffed. He just didn't feel like letting Lambert up yet, nothing else.

"It's okay," Lambert said, sounding more serious and sneaking his arm away from where it was pinned until he could pat Geralt's shoulder. "You've had a rough year."

Geralt hoped Lambert couldn't hear him swallowing.

"Hnn."

"You can keep hugging me if you want to," Lambert offered awkwardly.

In response Geralt squeezed Lambert as hard as he dared for a few seconds before clambering up and away.

Without further conversation they both headed back inside to change out of their soaked clothes.

Jaskier wasn't sure of what to do.

He was starting to feel as if he was drowning but he really should manage by himself. It had been months yet being alone was still so fucking hard. He could do it if absolutely necessary but far too often it devolved into a shitshow and he was so fucking tired of it.

He should be able to stay alone in a safe, familiar place.

Feeling his heart speed up, Jaskier thumped his forehead against the door he was standing in front of. The cool wood was pleasant to lean on.

Fear making his throat feel constricted Jaskier opened the door and quietly stepped into the hallway.

He still didn't know what to do.

Slowly, he made his way to the library, vaguely hoping to find Eskel like before. The room was empty. Disheartened, Jaskier took a moment to count his breaths to make sure they'd stay even before stepping out again.

No one was in the main hall.

Or kitchen.

It felt like the keep was abandoned, just cold stone and freezing snow. Maybe everyone had finally gotten enough of him and decided to leave.

It was getting harder to breathe.

Shaking his hands in an attempt to stop his fingers from tingling, Jaskier hurried back upstairs and stopped in front of the door he was relatively sure belonged to Eskel. It felt like a daunting task to knock on it but the only other place inside the fortress to check Jaskier could think of was Vesemir's study and he wasn't ready to purposefully seek the old Witcher out. There was Lambert's room too but he was almost certain he was still outside. He'd try it if Eskel wasn't in.

Realizing he had been standing stockstill for a few minutes, Jaskier finally gave a knock.

"Coming," Eskel called immediately, seconds before opening the door.

Jaskier wondered if Eskel had been standing there waiting for him to announce his presence. It wouldn't surprise him.

"Jaskier." Eskel smiled. "Can I help you?"

"Uhhh," Jaskier mumbled, not sure what to say. It was far too common.

"Want to come inside?" Eskel offered.

"No," Jaskier said firmly. He wasn't going to enter anyone's bedroom alone. No matter if they were a threat or not. He wouldn't do it. Not willingly. He'd have to be dragged in.

…Or just ordered…

"Okay. How about the library or the main hall? I doubt you want to keep standing in the middle of the hallway," Eskel asked easily.

"Library…?" Jaskier decided, unable to keep his tone from turning questioning. It was a relief Eskel hadn't taken offense at the refusal to come in.

"Want that knitting lesson?" Eskel asked. "I could grab the supplies before we go."

"That– That'd be great if it's not a bother and you have time," Jaskier said. Anything to distract him from the churning anxiety sounded good. "I can just scram if you're busy or want to be alone. Really. I don't want to inconvenience you. I can go. Just say the word and I'll leave you alone."

"Jaskier, I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to spend time with you," Eskel interrupted him.

"Thank you," Jaskier said sincerely. "In that case I'd like that lesson."

"Any preferences for color?" Eskel asked, walking deeper into his room.

"As garish as you have," Jaskier requested. "I want to make the ugliest colored cap for Geralt."

"Sounds perfect," Eskel laughed. "I don't have a lot of bright colors but we could make it a blend of multiple ones for extra effect."

"Even better," Jaskier agreed. It was honestly starting to sound fun, not only something to distract himself with.

Soon enough they were settling down in the library. Jaskier couldn't help the way he stood still for an awkwardly long time before finally finding the nerve to push a chair until it almost touched Eskel's and sit down. It wouldn't be possible for Eskel to teach knitting if they sat far apart. And it wasn't as if sitting so very close to him was dangerous, no matter what his anxiety was trying to whisper.

He was safe.

Eskel was safe to be around.

There was nothing to be nervous about.

"Do you know anything about knitting?" Eskel asked.

"You need yarn and needles and can do beautiful things with it," Jaskier said, shrugging. "So practically nothing."

"That's totally fine. I'll show you how to create the first row by casting-on." Eskel nodded.

Jaskier was extremely glad his hands weren't shaking since the unfamiliar movements required enough concentration as it was. It felt like the yarn had a mind of its own but after a while he got the hang of it and managed to also evenly distribute the stitches to the needed four needles without dropping a single one.

"Done!" Jaskier said, showing Eskel his accomplishment.

"Good job. Let's start the knitting itself," Eskel said, craning his neck to look closely at the needles without leaning toward Jaskier.

It was an appreciated gesture. Jaskier wasn't sure if he could stand Eskel looming over him. This was already skirting his limits, sitting so close to someone else than Geralt.

"Poke the free needle through the first stitch and catch the working yarn. Pull it through the opened stitch and then move it to the needle you're working with. Then it's just repeating the motion row after row until it has the height you want," Eskel instructed, showing the process with his own needles. "I'll keep advising until you get the hang of it. Also, let me know when you want to change the color and I'll show how it's done."

"Thanks," Jaskier said, concentrating hard on not dropping any of the stitches.

He did want to make an ugly looking cap for Geralt but he also wanted it to be the right shape and knitted as well as he could.

"Could you show me how to switch to another color now?" Jaskier asked after a while, afraid to move his hands and destroy what he had finished so far. Thank goodness he had nimble fingers used to delicate work.

"Of course. Which one?" Eskel asked, hovering a hand above the basket full of yarn balls.

"Brightest blue you have. It'll pair beautifully with the pale yellow I started with. I think red will come after that," Jaskier decided.

"You really think you'll be able to make Geralt wear that?" Eskel asked, amused.

"I'll make sure of it." Jaskier nodded as Eskel demonstrated the color change.

"It'll be good for Geralt to wear something else than black for a change," Eskel said.

"The contrast of his white hair and black clothes is striking but sometimes it feels like he's afraid of color," Jaskier said. "I wonder if he thinks wearing anything else would interrupt his dramatic brooding."

"Maybe he thinks people would mistake him for a brooding chicken," Eskel said.

"He definitely broods more than an average one." Jaskier nodded. "Acts all protective too. Maybe he's the Black Chicken and not the White Wolf."

"Oh, please call him that!" Eskel laughed. "I want to see his reaction."

"I will," Jaskier agreed, falling silent.

"Eskel, thank you. Not just the lesson but in general. You've been so kind and understanding. I really appreciate it, more than you could ever know," Jaskier said quietly after a while, winding the yarn tightly around his finger. "It makes me feel welcome despite being the fucking mess I am. Helps me to… Helps me to feel safer."

Unwinding the yarn Jaskier continued, "Not long ago I wouldn't have been able to sit this close to anyone but Geralt. It sounds so silly and insignificant, sitting next to someone, but it means a lot to me. Thank you for making me feel safe enough to do so."

"Jaskier, I– I'm so glad you feel that way. You truly are welcomed and safe here," Eskel said, looking astonished when Jaskier dared to glance at him. "I would never intentionally harm you. Neither would anyone else here. I hope you believe that."

"I think I do… most of the time at least," Jaskier said slowly, continuing to tangle and untangle the yarn around his fingers. "When I can think clearly. When I have enough energy to silence the anxiety and ever present fear."

It felt wrong yet right to talk about it.

But he should have asked first, not just sprung it on Eskel without warning.

"Is this alright? Me talking about what's going on? I don't want to burden you. At all. I can shut up. I really can. Will. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for sharing. I didn't mean to bother you," Jaskier rambled, worried he had overstepped. He didn't want to mess up. Especially now that Eskel appeared to like him. He didn't want it to go away, for Eskel to change his mind about him.

Although, he probably would if he heard too much.

"Jaskier, take a deep breath and relax. It's okay, I don't mind listening," Eskel said firmly. "You're free to tell or talk about anything you want to."

"Right, right. Thanks," Jaskier said, doing as prompted. "Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize."

"Sorry." Fuck.

"It's fine," Eskel said with a small smile. "Jaskier, I mean what I said and I'm really happy you feel comfortable enough to do so. I admit I didn't think we'd meet like this but, well, that's life for you."

"I didn't expect this either," Jaskier snorted.

"I bet." Eskel nodded.

"Never thought anyone could just... break me. Didn't even take many hours," Jaskier said, voice wavering and absently switching to poking his thigh with the free knitting needle. "Just a few words and tou–"

He couldn't say it.

"Jaskier, stop," Eskel said, sounding alarmed. "You will leave bruises."

"What? Oh, shit. Didn't mean to do that," Jaskier said, staring at the blunt needle. With haste he placed both it and the start of the woolen cap in the yarn basket. Hands freed, he fished the ring box Geralt had gifted him out of his pocket to fidget with.

Pressing his fingers hard against the geometric patterns cut into the wood helped.

Gave him a physical anchor to focus on.

"Eskel, humans aren't fragile enough to bruise from being lightly poked. Not even me," Jaskier said, noticing Eskel still looked far too worried.

It was honestly endearing.

And sad considering the lack of knowledge of what would hurt a human and what wouldn't was probably caused by minimal interactions.

"You're sure?" Eskel asked, frowning.

"I'm sure. Sorry for alarming you. Sometimes I just start fidgeting in… undesirable ways,"Jaskier said, looking away and feeling deeply embarrassed. "I try to direct it to fiddling with my beads or this ring box instead of myself."

"Yourse–?"

"Nail biting, mostly," Jaskier interrupted, not wanting Eskel to draw more drastic conclusions. "Nothing dangerous per se."

Jaskier wished the cozy atmosphere would return.

Didn't matter that it had been him starting the conversation.

"Do you want a blanket?" Eskel asked.

"What?"

"Blanket. You look cold," Eskel said, making Jaskier realize he had drawn his legs up and to his chest at some point.

"...Yes, please," Jaskier said. He really did want to burrow underneath something despite being fine with the library's temperature.

Being able to take the offered blanket from Eskel's hand was a pleasant surprise.

Covering everything but his head with it did make things better. It was a strange effect but Jaskier had no plans to start analyzing why being underneath blankets helped. It was enough that it did.

"I'm sorry I can't continue knitting for now," Jaskier said after a while.

"Don't worry about it. It's supposed to be fun," Eskel said easily. "We'll just continue later when you feel like it."

We. Eskel really wasn't bothered –too badly at least– then if he still wanted to spend time together.

It was a relief.

"Thanks."

Jaskier wasn't sure if he wanted to get up within the next few centuries. His muscles were aching from the exertion of taking part in the Witchers' warm up and it was still hard to believe Vesemir wouldn't regard him differently now that he knew what had happened and had seen him have a violent flashback. Although, Vesemir hadn't acted any differently from before. Had spoken just the same and hadn't acted as if afraid he'd shatter into pieces any second.

It'd be nice to be able to kick his brain into accepting the evidence already that everything was fine.

"Geralt? Are you back?" Jaskier asked, not wanting to open his eyes but curious if he had returned.

"Did I wake you?" Geralt replied.

"No," Jaskier said. "Hey, since I'm awake, would you… Would you join me?"

"What?" Geralt asked, sounding surprised.

"You. Me. Sitting on the same bed," Jaskier said, moving to lean against the headboard instead of laying down. Knowing what Geralt was about to ask he continued, "I'm sure."

"Hmmm."

It was reassuring to have Geralt so close that Jaskier could feel the mattress dip under his weight, to almost feel the body heat. Made him feel warm inside, soothed the anxiety and negative thoughts circling around too. It felt like he hadn't seen Geralt in eons despite actually having been separated for only a handful of hours all together.

"I missed you," Jaskier said, turning to look at Geralt.

"You saw me an hour ago," Geralt said, amusement sneaking into his tone. "And probably slept most of the time we were separated."

"It was longer than that and I wasn't asleep while you were riding. I was with Eskel," Jaskier countered. "I'm well within my right to miss my beloved."

Geralt gave a predictable grunt and crossed his arms, staring intensely at the opposite wall.

He was too precious with his embarrassed gestures.

"I felt safe enough with Eskel to sit next to him," Jaskier said, feeling giddy. Which should be a ridiculous reaction to such a simple thing. "He wouldn't have had to even reach out to touch me, just move his arm a bit. He didn't do that."

"Jaskier, that's amazing," Geralt said, sounding utterly sincere in his excitement. "Really, really good."

"I think so too." Jaskier nodded. "It's big, isn't it? I'm not blowing it out of proportion?

"No, you're not," Geralt said decisively.

"I'm glad," Jaskier sighed, relieved at the confirmation. It was so hard to view things objectively, hard to trust his own feelings.

"You should be," Geralt agreed.

"Thanks, Geralt," Jaskier said before looking at where Geralt's left hand was resting. Wriggling his fingers, Jaskier asked, "Hold my hand?"

"Hmmm."

It wasn't a surprise that the calluses and small scars littering Geralt's hand hadn't changed since the last time. Honestly, it would have been absolutely alarming if they had. As it was, Jaskier had no problems following the star map life had left on the Witcher's skin with his fingertip.

"I love your hands," Jaskier blurted out.

"What the hell?" Geralt asked, clearly taken aback.

At least he didn't let go.

"What's there not to love? They're big, strong, and used to violence yet still the gentlest things when you want them to be," Jaskier said, accepting his fate. If Geralt wanted to hear the thought process, hear he would. "It'd be easy to think you'd be clumsy with them when not handling weapons but in reality you're perfectly capable of doing delicate and precise work. But first and foremost, you use them to protect. Even me, even my heart."

Jaskier didn't mind the way Geralt kept subconsciously tightening his grip, only matched it with his own.

"I– Fuck! I fucking love you, Jaskier," Geralt snapped, looking away and pressing his free hand against his face in a futile attempt to hide. "Don't _say_ things like that!"

"Oh, dearest, don't hide," Jaskier laughed. "You deserve every sweet word and more. Especially since those are what I can give you most of all currently. I want you to know that I adore you."

"Shut up," Geralt muttered.

"You don't actually want that, do you?" Jaskier asked, insecurity creeping into his tone.

"No," Geralt grunted, leaping off the bed and throwing a fur over Jaskier's head. "I don't."

"Geralt, 'Don't hide' didn't mean that you should hide me instead and underneath a hide at that," Jaskier said, letting the fur fall into his lap.

"Hnnnn."

"Come back to bed. I don't feel like chasing after you and want to be close to you," Jaskier entreated.

"Hmmm."

"That's better," Jaskier said as Geralt took a seat on the mattress by his calves. He was quite sure the expression on Geralt's face was exasperated fondness.

"Jaskier, you're doing so well," Geralt said softly. "I'm glad to see it."

"A good day," Jaskier said. "Which reminds me, I've changed my mind about cutting my hair today. If it's okay with you?"

"You don't need my permission," Geralt stated, displeasure coloring his tone.

"I know, I know. Sorry. Habit," Jaskier said quickly. "I know you don't want to control what I do."

He really did know. It just was almost like a reflex to check, to show he'd back down without a fight. To just fucking roll over. It was frustrating. He didn't _want to_ do it but even the thought of hypothetical confrontation was chilling. So much easier to give in than let things escalate if needed.

It wasn't as if cutting his hair was important.

It was.

But it didn't matter.

"It's a nice day. I don't want to destroy it by working on my hair," Jaskier continued. "I'd just make myself cry and I really don't care for that right now."

"Then you do it later when you feel ready." Geralt shrugged as if it was that simple.

Maybe it was.

"Mmhmm."

"Jaskier, want to go downstairs? We're in no hurry but dinner will be ready soon. You slept for pretty long," Geralt asked.

"You could have woken me up, you know," Jaskier said, getting out of the bed. "I don't want to sleep the day away."

"You need rest and aren't currently oversleeping. Taking a couple hour nap is fine," Geralt said, following suit.

"Staying awake the whole day would be even better," Jaskier grumbled.

"If you need sleep, you sleep. Don't overthink it," Geralt said, leading them downstairs.

Jaskier didn't bother answering, just took Geralt's hand into his after getting permission. It felt good, having a concrete anchor to hold onto. Felt special too, knowing there weren't many people in the world whom Geralt would allow doing so.

"Feeling stiff, Jaskier?" Vesemir asked from where he was sitting by the fire when they arrived in the main hall.

"A bit." Jaskier nodded. Suddenly it felt like his legs were made from unbending wooden planks.

"It'll pass once you'll get used to the activity," Vesemir said, eyes glinting with amusement. Jaskier wished without hope his sudden inability to remember how legs were meant to work wasn't noticeable.

"I know," Jaskier said, letting go of Geralt and taking a seat at the table. "Thanks for letting me join in."

"Of course. I'd never turn down anyone who wants to exercise," Vesemir said easily, placing the book he had been reading down and joined them. "What kind of a fencing instructor would I be if that's something I'd do?"

"A fucking terrible one," Jaskier said before thinking.

Before he had time to panic over his word choice Vesemir started laughing. Even Geralt gave an amused huff.

"That sums it up," Vesemir said, still smiling. "And I'm perfectly aware you won't break during training."

"Ah." Jaskier blinked, not sure how to respond.

"You're not weak or fragile," Vesemir said seriously, looking Jaskier in the eye.

"...Oh…"

"No one thinks you are," Vesemir continued. "Aside from yourself at least."

"..."

Jaskier really, really wasn't sure how to respond to that. It felt like Vesemir had just kicked something inside of him and now everything was unbalanced. Teetering. Over what, he didn't know.

"There's many different kinds of strength, Jaskier."

"..."

Vesemir took a moment before speaking again, probably giving him a chance to say something. "I'm glad to help with the physical one too since you've shown interest. Been a long time since the last time I've had someone to train from ground up. Not that we're going to make a swordsman out of you."

"Apparently he already knows how to use one," Lambert said, entering the hall.

Jaskier was sure he had never been as happy to see him as right now.

"Oh? You do?" Vesemir said, looking interested.

"Sort of," Jaskier cleared his throat. "Not well."

"He killed two nekkers with one earlier this year," Geralt said, sounding strangely proud of it instead of his usual vaguely disapproving tone.

"Really? I'd like to hear that story," Vesemir said.

"Me too. Haven't changed my mind about that," Lambert agreed, having sat down next to Vesemir.

"I… Okay," Jaskier sighed.

"You don't have to," Geralt said seriously.

"I want to," Jaskier said. "I'll tell it once Eskel arrives, he'll want to hear it too surely. But… It's not a fun story if that's what you're after."

"Eh, can't be anything too bad since you're both here and alive," Lambert said.

Right.

Nothing could be too bad as long as no one died. Things could have been far worse. Back with the nekkers, back with…

"Lambert, go get the bowls and spoons," Eskel's voice interrupted Jaskier's thoughts as he arrived carrying a large steaming pot.

Lambert gave a dramatic groan but did as told without further protests.

Jaskier was pleasantly surprised that the fish soup actually tasted like soup instead of ash and cinder. It was warm, filling, and gave him a convenient excuse to stop talking to gather himself when it felt like his voice would start wavering. It definitely wasn't the most splendid retelling of the tale but at least it also wasn't a monotonous list of events either.

"That was among the stupidest stunts I've heard of someone doing with a sword during a fight which should tell you a lot," Vesemir said flatly once Jaskier finished and they were free to talk again. "Truly, who in the world decides to flip their blade an enemy is bearing down on so instead of the flat of the blade separating their throat and the foe, it's the cutting edges?"

"Sorry," Jaskier mumbled, feeling chastised.

"I like it," Lambert announced. "Go big or go home, right?"

"More like go big or cut your own throat," Eskel said.

"I would have died anyway, was already pinned to the ground on my back with no way out. Between the nekker tearing me open with teeth or pressing the sword through my throat with its weight, I'd rather take the sword," Jaskier said quietly, tracing a memory of the shallow scratch with his fingers.

Geralt had gotten a similar but worse wound from Marden's sword.

He had to turn to look at Geralt to be sure there was no wound anymore.

"Maybe I should train you with swords then if for no other reason than to make sure you won't repeat that maneuver," Vesemir said.

"Uhhh…" Jaskier mumbled.

"Jaskier, are you tired?" Geralt asked abruptly.

"No," Jaskier said, trying to keep amusement at Geralt's far from discreet intervention from his voice.

"Great. Would you like to… After this…" Geralt continued, each word getting gruffer. "Do a thing with me?"

"Do a thing with you?" Lambert cackled. "What the fuck, Geralt? You sound like a pre-teen asking their crush out!"

"Fuck off, Lambert," Geralt grunted.

"I'd love to do a thing with you, Geralt," Jaskier said, a small smile starting to form.

"Behave while I'm gone," Eskel said, lifting the half-empty pot off the table and walking away. "If there's a brawl, I want to see it."

"No brawls at the dinner table," Vesemir said. "Take it outside if you have to."

"Lambert isn't worth it," Geralt decided.

"Excuse me, I'm worth everything," Lambert said, fake offended.

"Of course you are." Jaskier nodded. "Geralt just doesn't recognize good things in his life."

"Damn right," Lambert agreed.

"Let's go, Jaskier," Geralt said, rising up. "You need more clothes if you haven't changed your mind about …the thing."

"Are we going outside?" Jaskier asked, following suit.

"Hmmm."

"Give me a hint, Geralt. Are we going to take a walk? Go for a ride? Roll in the snow? Will you throw me off a tower?" Jaskier pestered as they headed back to their room, too curious to control his words.

"Why the hell would I throw you off a tower?" Geralt asked, giving him a bemused look.

"I don't know. It's your surprise." Jaskier shrugged, stepping in.

"I'm not going to kill you," Geralt deadpanned. "You've had too many almost-situations as it is."

"Geralt, could I borrow your shirt…?" Jaskier asked, feeling weirdly bashful.

"My shirt?"

"They fit well over my clothes and are warm," Jaskier said. And they made him feel more at ease, more comfortable and safe. Loved.

"Go for it," Geralt said, apparently finding the ceiling very interesting suddenly.

"Thanks!"

It didn't take long until Geralt was leading Jaskier up multiple stairs, taking him to higher levels than he had ever been before. Maybe Geralt was planning on throwing him off a tower after all. Just as Jaskier was about to complain about his burning calves, Geralt stepped out of a door leading to a balcony.

"Geralt…" Jaskier whispered, freezing in surprise once he too had stepped out, not knowing what else to say.

There were lit lanterns giving off soft and dim light, just enough to show the dimensions of the large balcony, the warm looking nest of blankets and furs against a wall, and a tray with a kettle and mugs. Even the snow had been removed from the floor. But the most striking feature were the Northern lights dancing across the sky framed by stars, lighting up the snow-covered valley below them.

"It's beautiful," Jaskier said quietly, walking to nearly lean over the railing in an attempt to see the lights better. "Really, really beautiful. Thank you."

Geralt wondered if he had spent too much time with Jaskier since he wanted to compare the amazed light in Jaskier's eyes to the twinkling stars.

"You're welcome," Geralt said instead.

"How did you…? When?" Jaskier asked, gesturing around.

"I, uh, asked Eskel to help set things up," Geralt admitted.

"So that's why he didn't return from the kitchen," Jaskier said, looking up again. "I must thank him too then."

"Hmmm."

"Did you know this would be the first time I see the Northern lights?" Jaskier asked, barely blinking and his awed expression not faltering. "I haven't spent a winter far enough North before. They're stunning. All those flickering colors, that gorgeous green, and the way they seem to be aflame. Nothing I've heard about them is nowhere close to seeing them myself."

"Glad you like them," Geralt said, feeling a little foolish for not having anything better to say. But he really was sincerely glad.

"I love them, Geralt," Jaskier said, turning to look him in the eye. "I love you."

"Hmmm." I love you too.

"Do they appear here often?" Jaskier asked, a soft smile on his lips.

Geralt hoped he understood what the hum had meant.

"Sometimes. Multiple times a winter but I've never kept count," Geralt said.

"That's wonderful," Jaskier said, absently drawing figures onto the snow coating the railing as he focused on the night sky again. "I'm spellbound by this view, never seen anything even remotely like it. Did you know there's a story about how the Northern lights are caused by the sparks a fire fox's tail leaves behind as it strikes the sky when the fox races across the land?"

"No."

"Then I'll tell it to you properly later," Jaskier said.

"Hmmm."

Geralt was sure that right now he'd happily listen to anything Jaskier would tell him, be it utter nonsense or something beyond boring. He too felt spellbound. Just with Jaskier and not the sky. The bard was acting so like himself, full of wonder at the world and telling stories. It wouldn't be a surprise if he'd start singing too.

Hopefully he would.

Gods, he wanted to kiss Jaskier.

It wasn't something he could ask for.

"Can I hold your hand?" Geralt asked, knowing that to be a usually welcome gesture.

"Yes," Jaskier said, taking his without hesitation.

Geralt could feel something unwinding inside of himself.

"How long do these stay visible?" Jaskier asked.

"Probably the whole night. Skies should stay clear."

"Better to get comfortable then," Jaskier said, tugging at Geralt's hand and leading him to the blankets.

"Tea?" Geralt offered, lifting the kettle and testing its temperature before rewarming it a bit with a weak _Igni_ sign.

There was a distracted nod as Jaskier bundled himself in the furs and blankets to stave off the cold, barely looking away from the sky.

It was peaceful sitting together, sipping tea and watching the lights. It felt like there was nothing wrong, nothing to worry about. Just… companionship.

Love.

Geralt could feel his heart skip a beat when Jaskier gently pressed his pinky against his hand that was resting between them. That, Jaskier touching him without asking first, had happened exactly thrice so far. Once after leaving Oxenfurt and twice during the traveling. It was a small, barely there touch. Geralt swore he could feel energy coursing through him from the contact point as if Jaskier was feeding him raw magic.

"Jaskier…" Geralt whispered, amazed and turning his palm up in a wordless request to hold hands.

Jaskier complied with a small, warm smile.

"Thank you for all this, Geralt," Jaskier said, leaning close. "May I kiss you on the lips?"

"Yes," Geralt said, voice a mere whisper and eyes flicking to Jaskier's lips.

It was a soft, loving, and chaste kiss. A precious little thing that left Geralt strangely breathless. He didn't have time to mourn the loss of Jaskier's chapped lips against his as another one was requested.

"Hold me?" Jaskier murmured afterwards, still close enough for Geralt to feel the warm breath.

"Are you sure?" Geralt couldn't help checking.

"Yes. I'd like to be held and given another kiss," Jaskier said, sounding sure of himself.

Geralt didn't have the words for what was happening with his heart.

It hurt.

He never wanted it to stop.

Slowly, Geralt wound his arms around Jaskier's shoulders, not pressing him closer and careful to keep his embrace light enough to disengage with the barest of movements. Let Jaskier himself move until their chests were brushing and Jaskier's arms were securely around his neck.

"I love you, Geralt. So very much," Jaskier said before leaning in for the requested kiss.

A longer, lingering one.

Geralt wished they could never separate, for the kiss to just continue. Jaskier would surely move away again once it'd be over. He never stayed. If they could just keep kissing, it wouldn't happen. It was strange, yearning so deeply to keep holding someone. It was the only thing Geralt wished currently, to just have Jaskier in his arms.

Even for a second longer.

"I love you," Jaskier said softly, not making a move to leave. "I love you, Geralt. I love you."

"Jaskier? Are you alright?" Geralt asked, starting to feel concerned. This wasn't how this was supposed to go.

"I love you," Jaskier repeated, hiding his face in the crook of Geralt's neck. "I love you."

"Hey, talk to me," Geralt said, drawing soothing patterns on Jaskier's shoulder blade.

"I love you."

In any other situation the repeated confession would be getting mortifying. Now it kept making Geralt more and more concerned.

"Jaskier?"

"I love you. So much, with everything I am. And I want to give myself, all of me, to you but can't and…" Jaskier choked out, his hug tightening.

"Don't you dare to apologize," Geralt said seriously. "There's no reason. This is enough. You're enough."

It really was.

He might want more but it didn't make the sentiment a lie.

Jaskier was more than enough just as he was or would be.

"Really…?"

"Yes." Maybe one day Jaskier would truly believe it.

"I love you."

"I– I love you too," Geralt mumbled, not knowing if he hoped Jaskier could make the words out or not.

He knew Jaskier understood anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter of many light-hearted scenes I'll leave you for a week or two. Haven't yet decided how long my break will be but two weeks is the max! ❤️
> 
> Nekker story Jaskier tells is the 4th in this series, Silver in Your Veins 
> 
> I'll also have the time to catch up with the lovely comments...!!


	13. Chapter 13

"Good. Your form is back to what it should be," Vesemir said, studying Geralt keenly and sheathing his own sword. "Keep it up. I don't want to see you leave in the spring with sub-par skills and get yourself killed."

"I don't plan on doing that," Geralt said.

"As you shouldn't," Vesemir said before turning to Eskel and Lambert's direction. "You too can finish for today."

"Geralt, walk with me?" Vesemir requested and headed toward the outer walls, Geralt at his side.

"How are you doing?" Vesemir asked once they were out of earshot.

"Fine."

"Geralt."

"I'm okay. Just a little …tired," Geralt amended, refusing to look at Vesemir.

"That's to be expected." Vesemir nodded. "This isn't easy on you."

It shouldn't be hard. It wasn't him fighting through what had happened.

"Geralt, I already reminded you that it's not just Jaskier affected by everything. You have your own wounds," Vesemir said seriously. "You need to treat them. Don't let yourself bleed out while helping him. It's okay to focus on yourself too."

"I don't need to do that," Geralt protested. "I'm fine and Jaskier is depending on me."

At that Vesemir stopped walking and turned to face him fully. "Geralt. The best thing you can do for Jaskier is to try to sever that unhealthy codependency you two have."

"I won't abandon him when he needs me!" Geralt snapped, fire in his eyes.

"Don't put words in my mouth," Vesemir said flatly, looking utterly unimpressed. "I'm not telling you to do that."

"Hnn."

"Geralt, how do you think both of your lives will be if you can't go your own ways even briefly without Jaskier suffering from it? Can you truly imagine a healthy relationship?" Vesemir asked solemnly.

"...No…" Geralt ground out with deep reluctance.

It was a truth he didn't want to admit or think about. And they _were_ working on it. It just was difficult.

For both of them.

"It's understandable you couldn't spend much time apart while traveling, but Geralt, do you think it's possible your protectiveness has been feeding into Jaskier's fears?" Vesemir asked. "Made the world seem even more terrifying to him, something he _does_ need protection from?"

"I…" Geralt trailed off, gripped by a cold feeling caused by the thought of having done that to Jaskier.

"Don't you dare to start carrying blame for that possibility," Vesemir said firmly, gently taking hold of Geralt's shoulder. "I don't know if that's something that has happened and even if it has had an effect, it's not your fault for not knowing what else to do or having had many options in general. Most importantly, Jaskier's reactions and feelings aren't your responsibility to manage."

"But–" Geralt started.

"No buts, Geralt. It's no surprise you want to keep him safe and sound," Vesemir said, not letting go. "World can be a cruel place but it still isn't something Jaskier needs to be sheltered from. Let him find his own two legs again, do less for him."

"I just want to help him," Geralt said quietly, lowering his eyes.

He was suddenly hurting.

"I know. I know, pup," Vesemir said softly, pulling him into a hug. "You've been doing a good job too. You can relax now, we won't let either of you fall down. We've got you."

"Hmmm." Geralt didn't fight against the urge to reach out and hug Vesemir back.

He had needed him.

"Geralt, you'll be alright," Vesemir said. "Things will get better."

Had needed someone to say those words to him too.

The stone that had been sitting in his stomach all this time felt a little lighter.

Geralt was grateful Vesemir didn't pull away, let him decide how long the hug would last. A rarity. He wasn't sure why he was craving physical contact this much, had started to ever since all the casual touches from Jaskier had disappeared from his life. Even now that Jaskier was more comfortable with physical contact the light ache stayed. Geralt felt like he could happily spend a whole day hugging or otherwise touching someone. Preferably Jaskier but his family would work too. Not that he was going to ask for that.

But if a hug was offered…

No reason to act rude and refuse.

"I need to talk with Jaskier about this, don't I?" Geralt said, taking a step back.

"You do." Vesemir nodded. "I'm sure you have done so before but it'd be good for you two to keep re-evaluating things as time passes."

"Hmmm."

It was good advice. Also echoed Jaskier's statement of not being always able to figure out and bring up the issues and urging him to be more vocal. Geralt had to admit he still wasn't particularly good at that. Doing better than before but it was hard to get rid of a decades old habit of staying silent and burying things. It probably wasn't fair to only react to things once Jaskier talked about them instead of being more active with starting conversations.

He didn't want to push Jaskier.

Maybe he should, just a little.

"I might go hunting for a day soon…" Geralt said tentatively, keeping a keen eye on Vesemir's expression.

"Sounds good. We could do with fresh meat," Vesemir said, looking pleased by the decision. He continued more seriously, "Jaskier won't be alone in the meantime. You know we'll help him through it as much as he allows us to."

I know," Geralt sighed. He just didn't want to cause Jaskier distress.

And the wish wasn't within healthy amounts, Geralt admitted grudgingly to himself. It wasn't only Jaskier having separation issues. Whenever he stayed away for too long he started to be gripped by an uneasy feeling and worry. Sometimes even right after leaving. They really needed to stop the cycle for once and all as soon as possible. Not that it'd suddenly happen in one try just because they were home now.

"I'll talk with Jaskier about doing it tomorrow," Geralt said, wanting someone to witness his words so he wouldn't either stay silent or back down at the first sign of unease from Jaskier.

Which would be unavoidable no matter how hard Jaskier would try to mask it.

Jaskier swore the blank page of his songbook was mocking him. Just like it had done every single day since arriving in Kaer Morhen. Not that he had taken it out very often but the sentiment was still true.

He had nothing.

No inspiration, no drive.

Just an uncorked inkwell and frustration.

Agitated, Jaskier stood up and started pacing around the room. He was tired and itchy, feeling as if his hair was constantly brushing against his ears.

It wasn't. He knew that.

It just felt like it.

Jaskier smothered the urge to get the haircutting kit out and start despite Geralt not being with him. Not a good idea in case of a bad reaction. It'd be easier with Geralt in general too, having someone to hold a mirror for him to see where to cut.

Instead he grabbed a pillow and hurled it against the far wall.

It didn't help with the itching.

Staring daggers at the pillow and feeling weirdly betrayed Jaskier retrieved it and placed it back on the bed with more force than necessary.

Raking his fingers through the too-long short hair Jaskier marched around for a minute before sitting heavily on the chair in front of the table.

His skin was still crackling with static.

Ripping a page from the songbook and continuing to shred it into tiny pieces helped a bit. It was weirdly satisfying to destroy something. Strangely calming to know the page was at his mercy, that he had all the control over its fate. It probably shouldn't be like that.

Another page perished by his hands.

Jaskier tossed the handful of tiny pieces in the air, watching them flutter to the floor like heavy snowflakes.

He'd clean them up later.

He wanted to get rid of his hair already.

The haircutting kit was exactly where he had placed it. Geralt hadn't seen a reason to confiscate the scissors again then.

Jaskier tossed it onto the bed.

The stone wall next to it didn't give in an inch when he kicked it. All he got was smarting toes which in retrospect was the only possible outcome. At least it hadn't been his hand this time. He really didn't want to keep doing that. Maybe if he took his boots off he'd remember to stop himself before trying to kick something.

The floor felt icy underneath his feet.

It was grounding. Jaskier stayed still, just wriggling his probably bruised toes and reveling in the cold creeping through his socks.

He felt a little calmer. A little better.

He had again a contact point with the world. The anxious, muddled feeling was starting to retreat. It was easier to focus. His skin didn't itch as much. His hair was brushing his ears only occasionally now, not continuously. The axis of the world was starting to align again.

Jaskier took a small step, chasing the cold not disturbed by standing in place.

He probably looked ridiculous but it didn't matter.

It worked and that was all that mattered.

Jaskier startled badly enough to jump when the familiar knocking sounded before Geralt stepped into the room.

"Jaskier?" Geralt said, a frown appearing on his brow.

"Mmhmm?"

"What's wrong?" Geralt asked, slowly walking closer and taking everything in.

"Ah. Nothing really," Jaskier said, finding his voice. "Anxious about cutting my hair. Nothing new."

"You still want to do it?"

"Yes." Absolutely.

"Tell me how to help," Geralt said seriously.

"If you could hold the mirror for me like before?" Jaskier requested, going to retrieve it. "Remind me to take a break if it seems like I need one but still keep going?"

"Sure," Geralt said, sitting in front of Jaskier after he had taken a seat on the floor with his back toward a wall and the door in sight.

After a few deep breaths, Jaskier looked at his unfamiliar reflection.

"I look hideous and don't know whether I like it or hate it," Jaskier mumbled, unable to look away from his pale and gaunt face.

"Jaskier…"

"I don't enjoy looking like a shipwreck but at least I don't look nearly as desirable as before,"Jaskier sighed, lifting the scissors. "That's the positive thing about looking terrible."

"You aren't ugly," Geralt protested, making sure to keep the mirror steady as Jaskier made the first cut.

"You're not a reliable source, Geralt," Jaskier said, anxiety rising with every snip of the scissors. "You'd say that even if I lost my nose. It's very sweet but unnecessary. I do have eyes."

"Which aren't working apparently," Geralt huffed.

"You're very sweet," Jaskier repeated, flinching when instead of the comb his fingers brushed against his scalp. He didn't like the way it made his eyes and nose burn in a far too familiar fashion.

"Jaskier, you're alright. It's safe here," Geralt said, apparently noticing the threatening tears.

"I know," Jaskier said quietly, blinking rapidly.

His hands were starting to shake.

"Hmmm."

His fingers brushed his hair again.

Jaskier threw the scissors across the room suddenly and folded into himself.

"I can't do this. I can't. I can't, I can't," Jaskier muttered, voice hitching.

"You don't have to. Jaskier, you can stop, it's okay. Just take deep breaths," Geralt said calmly. "Can you look at me?"

It took considerable effort but Jaskier managed to lift his head up and straighten his spine enough to do so.

"Good, you're doing good, Jaskier. You're safe at Kaer Morhen. There's nothing threatening here. It's safe," Geralt continued. "Do you remember?"

"Ye- yeah. Safe. Kaer Morhen," Jaskier echoed, unable to hold the tears back any longer.

It was a miracle he was able to force the words out.

He just wanted to curl up and the feeling of phantom fingers washing his hair to disappear. He never, ever again wanted to feel the sensation. It'd keep returning, time after time after time. Probably forever. Sure felt like it. A curse that was impossible to lift. A punishment for every single thing he had done wrong in his life and that was a list too long to recite.

"–afe," Geralt's voice drew Jaskier out of his spiraling thoughts. "You're safe."

"Not– Not a panic attack," Jaskier croaked, words garbled with tears.

"That's good but you still have to focus on your breathing," Geralt said. "You're close to one."

It was true.

Jaskier could feel the tingling in his fingers and the familiar tightness of his chest, the coldness that threatened to swallow him. The panic and memories clawing at his brain, wanting to burst out. To consume him. To drag him down.

He didn't want it to happen.

"A– A fireplace. Logs. Chairs," Jaskier listed, looking around and trying to find comfort in the routine.

It took half a century until he felt relatively steady again.

"Hi…" Jaskier whispered, wiping tears away with mixed success.

"Better?" Geralt asked, radiating worry.

"...Yeah…" Sort of at least.

"Hmmm."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–" Jaskier cut off, noticing Geralt's look. Swallowing, he tried again. "Didn't think that would happen. I hoped– hoped it'd go well. Is it really so wrong for me to think that? To think something might go well?"

"No, it's not," Geralt said firmly. "It's good you have hope, think it'll get better. Because it will. Just give it more time."

"I'm fucking tired of this. I want it to be over." Jaskier knew he had whined about it countless times. It had to be irritating Geralt.

"I know. I know, Jaskier," Geralt said.

"I _hate_ this," Jaskier muttered, getting unsteadily on his feet. "It's such bullshit."

He should go get the scissors from where he had hurled them. Instead he face-planted onto the bed.

"Leave them," Jaskier said, voice muffled by the mattress when he heard Geralt take a step away. "I'll get them later. If you want to, I'd like you to lay down with me instead."

"Really?" Geralt asked, sounding surprised.

"Really." Jaskier patted the mattress next to him, not lifting his head. "Just don't ask to touch me quite yet. I need a moment."

"Of course," Geralt said, joining Jaskier.

It felt good to have Geralt so very close. To simply match their breathing and wait for his heart to return to its normal rhythm. To know that everything was actually fine and safe. There really was no reason to be afraid.

There was soap in his hair.

"Can I cuddle with you?" Jaskier asked, finally turning his head.

"Yes," Geralt said. The contrast of his soft voice and stone-faced expression was enough to cause a fleeting smile to grace Jaskier's lips.

"One day I'll do the holding," Jaskier said, wriggling to find a comfortable position. "You deserve to feel so very loved, enveloped in someone's embrace."

"...I already do," Geralt grunted, tensing up yet managing not to tighten his hold on Jaskier.

"Oh. Oh, darling, my love," Jaskier whispered in astonishment. "You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that."

He felt like crying again. Just for a very different reason.

Geralt fought hard not to say anything the moment he smelled fresh salt in the air and felt his shirt slowly getting damp. It was difficult to let Jaskier cry silently against him and just gently draw circles on his shoulder, hoping it'd sooth him. Not all tears were bad but he'd rather not have Jaskier cry for any reason. Except from laughing too much. That was acceptable.

It was only after Jaskier's hitching breaths had calmed and they had been laying in peace for a long time that he dared to speak. "Jaskier, I know this isn't the best time to bring this up but… I was thinking about going hunting for the whole day tomorrow."

Laying together like this Geralt could feel the shudder running through Jaskier at the words.

"Okay," Jaskier said simply.

It'd be far more convincing if Geralt couldn't feel his heart start beating faster and smell the building anxiety. He appreciated how hard Jaskier tried to act unaffected as if he wasn't afraid of the thought of staying behind.

"We could do with fresh meat and I haven't yet provided it. Normally we cycle through that too."

"Geralt, you don't have to come up with excuses," Jaskier said, moving so they could see each other properly. "You're free to do whatever you want. Including getting away from me."

"It's not an excuse," Geralt snapped, making Jaskier flinch.

Calm. He needed to be calm. This would be hard enough without losing his temper.

"Not an excuse," Geralt repeated. "We really do need more."

"Ah."

Geralt took a brief moment to think about how to word his thoughts. "And we need to try harder to separate. We've already decided this isn't healthy. There's a chance to really work safely on it here."

"We do," Jaskier agreed neutrally.

If not for previous conversations, Geralt knew he'd be far more concerned about whether or not Jaskier was going along blindly.

"I know it won't be easy," Geralt said. There was no reason to pretend otherwise.

"Mmhmm."

"You'll have help, won't have to be alone. The others will gladly keep you company if you want to have some. You don't need me to be safe."

It was hard to try keeping guilt from rearing its head as he said the last sentence. Maybe he really had accidentally made Jaskier depend on him more than he would have otherwise. Maybe he really had shielded Jaskier too much, stressed too much that he would keep him safe. It just was fucking hard to even think about anything hurting Jaskier.

Jaskier didn't deserve more pain.

Maybe he was causing it unwittingly.

"Sure." Jaskier nodded.

The short, noncommittal answers were starting to get frustrating. He needed to hear Jaskier's actual thoughts about the situation.

"Jaskier, talk to me."

"What's there to say? You're right about needing to do this," Jaskier said. "We can't keep going on like this. It's my problem that I still have troubles with being alone. It shouldn't affect what you want to do."

"It's not just you," Geralt grunted.

"What?"

"Not just you having trouble being separated," Geralt said gruffly, unable to look at Jaskier. "I always start worrying."

"I didn't think you had any reservations…" Jaskier said.

"Well, I do," Geralt said, crossing his arms.

"Oh, hmmm. Well, it doesn't really change the situation," Jaskier said. "Except making it even more important. I really don't want you to feel like you can't leave me. In any sense of the word."

"I _don't_ want to leave you," Geralt stated.

"You eventually will if you don't have your freedom," Jaskier said seriously. "I don't want _that_ to happen. I want to make us work long term."

"So do I," Geralt said awkwardly and was awarded with a brief smile from Jaskier.

"I won't insult you and lie that I'll be okay since we both know I most likely won't be. I can handle it, just… not well. Still, I'm fine with you going," Jaskier said. "Hopefully it goes better than the times you left for longer hunts while traveling here."

Finally Jaskier was actually sharing his thoughts. Maybe there really was something about opening up even a little bit first.

"I think it will," Geralt said sincerely. "You're doing better in general."

"True… Things haven't felt quite as heavy lately," Jaskier agreed tentatively as if scared to say it.

"Hmmm."

"Not that throwing scissors across the room makes that sound true," Jaskier said with a wry smile.

"Better to take it out on inanimate objects than hit a wall," Geralt pointed out.

He didn't like the innocent expression forming on Jaskier's face.

"What did you do?" Geralt asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Jaskier said quickly. Too quickly.

"What did you _do_?"

"I might have kicked a wall, maybe, possibly. Very solid, those. Well built," Jaskier said, staring at the ceiling. "No wonder the fortress has been standing for centuries."

"Idiot," Geralt huffed, exasperated.

Jaskier just stretched his arms and slid back down to lay down on the bed.

"Would you let me hold you?" Jaskier asked. "I wasn't joking about wanting to do so. I could easily be wrong but I think it has always been rarer for you to be held than doing the holding."

It was true. It wasn't as if people gravitated to holding _him_ , the big, monstrous, and muscular Witcher if there was any holding happening in the first place. Not that it bothered him, having someone in his arms felt good the rare times it had happened.

"Sure," Geralt said, also laying back down. "Go for it."

"Geralt, you're stiff as a rod," Jaskier said cautiously, not moving to touch him. "Please, just tell me if you don't want it. I don't want to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable. I won't do it."

Taking a deep breath Geralt relaxed his muscles, not having realized having tensed up. "Jaskier, I'm alright with this. Want it."

It just felt like a foreign idea.

"If you're sure," Jaskier said, moving closer and winding his arms gently around him and drawing him to his chest.

"Hmmm," Geralt hummed, feeling like he was melting from both the gesture and Jaskier letting him get close in a new way. There was something so very different about being the one held, having his head ducked under Jaskier's chin and ear pressed to his chest, just above his heart. The fast beats were almost deafening this close.

"Alright?" Jaskier whispered, voice shaky.

"Yes," Geralt affirmed. "You?"

"...Yeah. Just… just new. Need a moment to adjust. You're very close to me like this, touch me differently," Jaskier said quietly. "Don't know if I can hold you for long but… I do want to."

"Don't push yourself," Geralt said, fighting against the sudden urge to nuzzle Jaskier's neck.

"I won't."

Geralt understood perfectly why Jaskier enjoyed so much being held. There was something calming, something that made him feel strangely safe and loved, in the gesture. It was unfamiliar. It was good. It was the opposite of what he was used to. It was always him offering the safety. The security. Be it with swords or holding someone. He was the protector. As it should be. But this… this was nice.

Even better if Jaskier would pet his hair.

Wait.

Geralt blinked, confused at the passing thought and trying to figure out where it had come from.

"Can I give you a kiss on the head?" Jaskier asked, unknowingly having the perfect timing.

"Please," Geralt whispered, heart thumping.

"I love you so very much, Geralt," Jaskier murmured before pressing his lips lightly against the crown of Geralt's head.

Geralt was sure he was drowning in the love the gesture was pouring into him.

It was impossible not to tighten his hold.

There was a surprised squeak and Jaskier immediately tensed up to the point of not breathing as the hug tightened.

"No, don't," Jaskier said, voice tremulous and faint when Geralt started to immediately disengage. "Stay. Please."

"Jaskier…?" Geralt asked in wonderment.

"Just for a little longer," Jaskier whispered, small shudders running through him. "I trust… I trust you'll let me go when I ask you to."

"I will," Geralt swore, meaning it from the bottom of his heart.

It took only a few heartbeats before Jaskier made the request and moved to sit in a chair, leaving plenty of space between them.

Geralt could see the way Jaskier's hands were shaking where they gripped his trousers.

"Jaskier, are you alright?" Geralt asked, concerned. "Was it too much?"

There was no verbal answer but Jaskier shook his head.

Geralt hoped it was aimed at the latter question.

With slow movements Geralt got up and approached Jaskier after pouring him a mug of water. It was a good sign that Jaskier wasn't shying away from him even though his expression was shuttered and there was a skittish glint in his eyes. Geralt still took it as a win.

What they had done had to be a lot to Jaskier.

It was a lot to him too.

Jaskier didn't reach for the offered water, just observed him silently so Geralt placed it on the table and took a couple of steps away. If distance was needed, he'd give it.

"Jaskier?" Geralt asked when nothing had changed in a couple of minutes.

More silence.

Jaskier only moved to fidget with his beads and closed his eyes.

"Are you alright?" Geralt repeated the earlier question. The answer was clear but he needed to know how bad things were.

A shrug.

Bad then. It never was good when Jaskier turned nonverbal.

"Anything I can do?"

"...Stay…?" Jaskier requested in a small voice, still keeping his eyes closed. But it was an answer.

"I will," Geralt promised.

"...Sorry…" Jaskier muttered, gesturing at himself.

"It's fine, Jaskier. It was a lot happening at once. Take your time sorting things through," Geralt said, careful to keep his voice neutral. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to shake Jaskier until he'd snap out of it or hug him and sooth the upset away.

"Mmhmm."

Back to hums then. Stifling a sigh, Geralt shifted his weight and settled to wait until the mood would pass and Jaskier would actively rejoin the world again. He'd keep trying to engage Jaskier into a conversation once in a while to check he wasn't actually dissociating but there really wasn't much else to do.

Jaskier would gather himself eventually. He always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently there is such a thing as too much loving... (Not shown but Jaskier shook it off pretty quickly)
> 
> Sorry I didn't get to all the comments yet after all. 😅 But progress is happening!


	14. Chapter 14

"Are you coming to see me off or staying here?" Geralt asked, tugging his gloves on.

"Coming," Jaskier said promptly, staring at him. Geralt wasn't sure if he was even blinking. "What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn't?"

"Hmmm."

Why did Jaskier have to say embarrassing things all the time? Although, it was a good thing he was doing so after yesterday. It hadn't taken Jaskier too long to calm down, or sort things out, whatever went on in his mind when he shut down. But he also had repeated the reaction when Lambert had commented on his half-cut hair. It always felt like a game of chance whether or not yesterday's events would carry over to the next day.

"Let's go then," Geralt said after strapping his swords and a crossbow onto his back, walking out of their room.

"I'll be fine. I'm familiar with the place and the others. I know it's safe here," Jaskier said as they descended the stairs.

Geralt wondered which one of them he was reassuring.

"You are," Geralt agreed."Nothing bad will happen to you. You do know that, don't you?"

"I do."

The clinking of the beads as Jaskier fidgeted seemed to fill the hallways. Geralt almost wished he too had those to wind around his fingers. Instead he surreptitiously flexed them.

The short walk felt ridiculously somber. It wasn't as if they were parting for good. It'd be just a few hours of not seeing each other and like Jaskier had said, he'd be safe and cared for here. As much as he'd let himself be. Hopefully Jaskier really would seek company instead of cooping himself into their room, too nervous to step out. It'd make everything easier.

"I'm coming with you, Geralt," Eskel said as Geralt and Jaskier neared the main door where everyone was waiting.

"No, you're not," Geralt said reflexively, taking in Eskel's clothing and gear which were similar to his own.

"I am," Eskel repeated, sounding sure of himself.

"And if I don't want your company?"

"Tough luck. I'm still coming." Eskel shrugged, clearly aware it hadn't been a serious reply.

"You need someone to hold your hand," Lambert said lazily, standing next to Eskel. "Bet you've forgotten how to hunt game."

Geralt didn't deign to respond.

"Bring an elk if you can," Vesemir said. "I need the bones."

"I'll try to track one down," Geralt promised, turning to focus on Jaskier who so far had been completely still and silent. Even the fidgeting had switched to clutching the beads with one hand.

"I'll see you in the evening," Geralt said, suppressing an urge to reach out to touch.

The tight feeling in his chest didn't have time to completely take form as Jaskier too seemed to crave one last hug before separating for the day. The familiar scent of Jaskier's fragrant soap was still easily noticeable from the early morning bath, not yet faded at all from his skin. It was calming to breathe in.

It really was ridiculous how hard it was to leave for not even a whole day.

"Be safe, Geralt," Jaskier said quietly, hugging him tightly. "Keep Eskel safe too."

"We'll be just fine, Jaskier. It's not like an elk is going to gore us," Geralt said. Drawing circles on Jaskier's shoulder blade, he continued, "Have a good day, okay. You'll be alright here and I'll be back soon enough."

"I know." Jaskier swallowed and let go.

If only knowing was enough...

"Well, we'll be off then," Geralt said, stepping reluctantly away.

"Don't fall down the mountainside this time, Geralt!" Lambert called out in parting, heading upstairs without waiting for Geralt and Eskel to actually leave.

"Let's go, Eskel," Geralt said, taking one last look at Jaskier before exiting the hall.

The winter air was crisp and a layer of ice crystals coated every surface, making everything glitter in the soft morning light. It'd be blinding later in the day once the sun would be properly up but for now it wasn't a bother. In fact, it'd make their trip easier since the snow's surface would also be frozen, allowing them to travel on it instead of sinking and having to trudge through.

Fastening the last leather strap of his skis, Geralt straightened up and took hold of the staff he had stuck in the snow.

"Ready?" he asked, shuffling his feet back and forth to re-familiarize himself with the skis. They always felt strange the first time he put them on, no matter how many winters he had done so.

"Ready." Eskel nodded and carefully kicked off, clearly not in the mood for a breakneck descent to the valley.

Which was fine. They'd have plenty of time to do their annual races.

"I'm glad you decided to take a day long hunting trip," Eskel said when they were getting close to the valley. "We haven't had many chances to spend time alone so far."

"Hmmm." It was true.

"How are you holding up?" Eskel asked, glancing at him.

"Why does everyone keep asking that?" Geralt huffed, jabbing his staff through the snow with a satisfying crunch and unnecessary force.

"Because we care about you," Eskel said as if there was nothing embarrassing about stating that.

"Hnnn."

"We do, and I'd like an answer."

"I'm fine."

"An honest one, please."

"I'm _fine_. Things are different from before but I'm handling it," Geralt said forcefully. It'd be nice if people would just take his word on it.

"Geralt, I know you are handling things but it doesn't mean you're necessarily fine. Don't keep backing out of what you've told us before," Eskel said seriously. "It's not weakness to need support."

Fucking Eskel, bringing up their previous conversations and using them against him.

"I'm…" Geralt wasn't sure what he was. Tired? Yes. Out of his element? Definitely. Clueless? Absolutely. …In love? Without a question.

"I don't know what I'm feeling," Geralt finally ground out when they had been skiing in silence for almost fifteen minutes. "I just don't."

"Want to try to figure it out?" Eskel offered.

Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea. Eskel was good with emotions.

"...Sure," Geralt grunted.

"What are the biggest three things that have changed from before?" Eskel asked.

"I'm with Jaskier. He's deeply hurt. I don't know what I'm doing," Geralt said slowly.

"What's your first reaction when you think about being with Jaskier?" Eskel asked, following a routine they had used many times before.

"Astonishment. Good kind."

"You're happy about being in a relationship?"

"Yeah, I am," Geralt said. He really, really was.

"And I'm happy for you." Eskel smiled. Turning serious he continued, "Reaction to knowing Jaskier is hurting?"

"I want to make it better," Geralt said. "Just… take it all away. See him be the sunny ball of annoying amounts of energy he used to be."

It felt wrong to admit missing the Jaskier he had known for years. It wasn't as if he was dead or actually gone.

"Big rapid change, right? You've never been the best with those," Eskel said.

"Hmmm."

"Geralt, it's okay to wish things were like they were. Doesn't mean you don't accept him like he is," Eskel said softly, stopping to look at him properly. "Nothing that happened was fair."

"It's not Jaskier's fault," Geralt snapped immediately, bristling.

"Do you really think I meant that?" Eskel asked, looking insulted.

"No. No, I don't," Geralt sighed, deflating.

"Good," Eskel said emphatically.

"Let's keep going…?" Geralt requested when Eskel didn't continue immediately.

"First reaction to not knowing what to do?" Eskel asked, getting back on track.

"Frustration."

"Thought so." Eskel nodded. "You've been a huge pile of tension ever since arriving."

"I want to know how to help, to know I'm doing the right things but I don't have any answers. I think there even aren't any," Geralt muttered. "I don't like it."

"You're right about that. I don't think there's a manual on how to deal with this kind of thing. Still, Geralt, I obviously don't know how Jaskier was doing right after but I can tell that he's doing better compared to how things were when you arrived," Eskel said. "You're clearly doing something –many things, I'd say– right with helping him."

"Hmmm."

It was nice to hear someone else too was seeing the changes.

"Geralt, have you any ideas what could make you feel less stressed?"

"Killing Marden again. Slowly this time," Geralt spat.

"Sorry, I don't know how to turn back time," Eskel said. "Something else?"

"...This…? Taking time away…?" Geralt said hesitantly, feeling guilty and unable to look Eskel in the eye.

"That I can help you with," Eskel said, sounding relieved. "Geralt, it's normal to need some distance from everything."

It didn't feel okay.

It was necessary.

"Stop feeling guilty about not spending each second of your life with Jaskier," Eskel said as if reading his mind, knowing him too well to miss the signs. "It'd be bad for you both."

"I know," Geralt agreed. "I just… worry. I actually thought you'd be with him today. Jaskier really trusts you."

"I don't know why he does that but I'm honestly so glad about it," Eskel said, shaking his head.

"Because you're fucking likable," Geralt countered. "Stop putting yourself down."

"Strong words from you," Eskel huffed. "I'm serious Geralt, I really don't understand why he seems to like me. He doesn't strike as a trusting kind."

Geralt felt like shoving Eskel into a snowdrift.

"You're not threatening. Have only been kind and helpful with him. Let him be and take things at his own pace, don't demand anything from him. That's a really big thing to Jaskier," Geralt said.

"Not threatening? Are you sure you both aren't blind?" Eskel said, sounding disbelieving and gesturing at himself.

"Fuck Eskel, you're ridiculously soft inside. Like a fluffy sheep."

"That's insulting. I'm at least a dastardly goat," Eskel protested, holding back a laugh.

"Admitting Lil' Bleater is a bastard?"

"She's a sweetheart."

"With you maybe. She holds a vendetta against everyone else," Geralt said decisively. "But I'm serious, Eskel. You don't read as a possible danger. You're calm and don't treat him differently or look at him strangely when Jaskier shows symptoms or uses self-calming techniques."

"Why would I?" Eskel asked, looking baffled. "It's good he knows how to help himself."

"Exactly. You don't judge," Geralt said seriously. "It makes him feel safe."

"Oh… He honestly does think that highly of me?" Eskel said quietly, rubbing at his scars.

"Yes."

"Huh."

Eskel really should get it into his thick head that he wasn't terrifying or defined by his scars. There was no denying they were bad but he was so much more than them. Anyone who took a look and decided to scamper off or sneer could go straight to hell.

Eskel was the best of them and it was others' loss if they couldn't see that.

Jaskier let out a deep, shuddering exhale as the door closed behind Geralt and Eskel.

It'd be fine.

He'd be fine.

He had made it through every single time Geralt had left him alone for a day. He'd make it through now too. Hopefully it would also go better than on average. It'd be a long and uncomfortable day but beyond necessary. Maybe he should actually kick Geralt out of the keep for a day once in a while to make sure they'd keep doing this. It didn't matter that his nerves were screaming him to do the opposite.

"I'm going to the library if you want to join me," Vesemir said, making Jaskier whip around to look at him.

"Oh. I'd like that," Jaskier said, following Vesemir upstairs and glad to have been invited. It really was nice to be reminded that he didn't have to be alone whether or not Geralt happened to be around.

They had been reading in silence for a good while when Vesemir spoke up. "How have you been, Jaskier?"

"I'm totally fine," Jaskier said before snorting at his reflexive answer.

"That so?"

"No," Jaskier sighed, suppressing an urge to card fingers through his terribly uneven hair. "But haven't had any flashbacks or proper panic attacks lately so there's that."

"That is good. Those don't seem to be easy on you," Vesemir said.

"Mmhmm." They definitely weren't.

"Did you stay alone often when you were traveling?" Vesemir asked. Jaskier knew for a fact he was perfectly aware of the answer.

"Not while traveling, no. Only when Geralt had hunts. I haven't joined him on those since– since Marden. Geralt would be distracted if I were there. Too much could have gone wrong so I stayed behind each time. Well, there was one time I came along but…" Jaskier said, running his fingers over the cover of the book he was holding. "Don't be angry with Geralt for trying to go on them as rarely as he could."

"I'm not angry at Geralt. If anything, I'm proud of him," Vesemir said seriously. "I'm hard on my boys about training because I love them like a father and don't want them to die. You know how dangerous our profession is. There's no space for mistakes."

That was far more straightforward than Jaskier had expected. Apparently not all Witchers had troubles admitting caring about someone.

"We did separate each day for a couple of hours like we've been doing here while we stayed at Brajan's inn. I know it isn't enough," Jaskier said, voice getting quieter. "I know this situation is unhealthy for both of us. I'm just… scared."

"I have trouble saying no to people. Regardless of what the subject is. I don't– I don't trust myself. If someone were to ask for something and Geralt wasn't there… I'm afraid I'd go along with anything. I once already agreed to have– agreed to spend a night with a friend, didn't know what else to do. Geralt got me out of the situation," Jaskier choked out, drawing his knees up to his chest. "And it all… All _this_ started when I walked away from Geralt at the feast. I keep thinking… keep fearing… it –something like it– will happen again. That people will look at me and know I'm a perfect target. I even have a reputation for being a bit of a slut. I know it's fucked up, needing Geralt to really feel safe. I _know_."

It felt strangely strangely good trying to verbalize why separating from Geralt was so difficult. Painful, yes, but also good.

"Everything just gets harder and the memories stronger," Jaskier finished, scrunching his eyes closed in an attempt to keep tears away.

"Not being able to refuse is dangerous. I'm glad you're aware of it," Vesemir agreed. "Maybe you should try to practice it?"

"What?"

"Practice saying no. To be honest, I don't know if repeatedly refusing imaginary offers would help but I also don't see any harm in trying it," Vesemir said. "Hopefully it'd make it easier for you to say no when you actually need to if you've said it enough to not overthink."

"Worth the shot, I guess." Jaskier shrugged. It wasn't as if he had any better ideas but hopefully they wouldn't start right now. His anxiety was bad enough as it was.

"Let's shelve the thought for later," Vesemir said to Jaskier's relief. "Better to focus on one thing at a time, hmmm?"

"...Yeah." Like getting through the day.

"You and Geralt have multiple times referred to Brajan and his family, the inn family, now. Would you like to tell me how you ended up befriending them?" Vesemir asked, sounding interested.

Either he was a good actor with his attempt of distraction or he was sincerely surprised Geralt had made friends with someone new. Possibly both.

"It's not a particularly riveting story," Jaskier said. "We had rented a room and one day I had a panic attack in front of Brajan while Geralt was riding. He steered me into the inn's kitchen and did his best to calm me down. His oldest daughter, Olga, has had attacks for years so he had some experience. Brajan was kind enough to help us out the best he could. Same with his whole family; five daughters and a wife. We ended up becoming friends before needing to move on."

"They sound like good people," Vesemir said.

"They are." Jaskier nodded. "We're planning on visiting them again in the spring."

Hopefully he wouldn't be as big of a wreck then. It'd be nice to be able to let them know he was doing better.

Not that he would have even crossed their minds but still.

"I'm sure they'll be happy to see you two again."

"Mmhmm," Jaskier hummed, resting his cheek on drawn-up knees. It felt like he was slowly starting to run out of words again.

Without attempting further conversation Vesemir returned to reading, probably noticing the change.

Jaskier wished the homely sounds of the crackling fire and pages being turned would have been able to calm his nerves. Instead they kept strumming with tension, anxiety making everything feel too close and loud.

"I'm sorry. I need to go," Jaskier said, jumping up and hurrying out of the room without even waiting for a response from Vesemir.

It was rude.

He couldn't help it.

He needed to get away.

The solitude of his and Geralt's room felt like a sanctuary when Jaskier barrelled in and beelined to the bed where he curled up underneath his weighted blanket. There were no sounds grating his ears or anyone who might try to interact with him. Just an empty room and a solid door separating him from the rest of the world.

His eyes were burning.

He didn't know why he was suddenly on the brink of tears.

Maybe the conversation had been slightly too much. After all, he hadn't spoken about the reasons why he had such trouble staying alone as in depth before. Maybe he shouldn't have done it while Geralt would be away for hours. Now it all was circling around in his brain, creating ridiculous yet terrifying scenes. It wasn't as if there was someone here who'd slowly open fastenings on his doublet one by one to run their hands up his torso under the excuse of removing the piece of clothing. No one who'd brush their thumb along his bottom lip without permission or force him to undress. There were few people in general who enjoyed taking others by force. Far, far less than decent ones. But sometimes people thought they were paying for more than just a performance, who took a look at him and thought there wasn't much difference between a bard and a whore.

There had been signs of overeager suitors even before Marden.

Things just had never escalated anywhere, had been easy to shrug off and not pay any mind.

He didn't know if anything would actually have happened. Probably not.

It'd be so very easy for someone to take it too far.

Especially now that he'd probably just freeze and agree to anything whether or not he'd want it. It was chilling. It was terrifying. He didn't know if he'd be able to piece himself back together if something happened again. A single instance had already broken him just as effectively as he had destroyed the porcelain bowl by hurling it across Marden's guest bedroom.

Staying alone didn't feel safe anymore.

It was stupid. Irritating. Frustrating. Humiliating.

Jaskier wondered if all Kaer Morhen's handkerchiefs were stored in Geralt's nightstand's drawer as he reached in for one to blow his runny nose. Trying to wipe tears away would be absolutely useless for now. Easier to just let them stream down his cheeks until they'd start drying. They'd stop eventually.

Clicking the ring box open and closed in a steady rhythm gave a good focus point with the movement and sound, making it easier to control his breathing.

Jaskier kept doing it long after the tears had ended, trying to keep his mind blank.

It worked.

Sort of.

A few heavy bangs on the door startled Jaskier badly enough to jolt and almost throw the box across the room.

"I'm getting lunch. Want to join?" Lambert's voice followed the knocking.

Jaskier doubted he'd be able to eat with the way his stomach was a knot of anxiety.

"...Sure," he called as loudly as he could, still ending up sounding subdued.

He appreciated Lambert's offer.

Crying alone would just be a plain pathetic way of spending time. Better to at least try to act like a functional human being. Perhaps if he pretended for long enough, it'd come to be true.

"It'll be leftovers from yesterday," Lambert said as they entered the kitchen. "Not that you have anything to complain about since it's my cooking, not Eskel's mush."

"He's a perfectly adequate cook," Jaskier defended Eskel, pouring water into a tea kettle and keeping Lambert within his eyesight.

"Adequate, my ass. He can't season to save his life," Lambert scoffed.

Not knowing how to ask Lambert to briefly step away from the stove so he could place the kettle on it Jaskier shifted his weight nervously. There was enough space to do it without a problem. It'd force him to get too close to Lambert. Not close enough to brush against but he'd be right next to him.

Jaskier knew Lambert wouldn't grab him.

He couldn't take the few needed steps.

"Going to hold onto that kettle and hope the water will spontaneously boil?" Lambert asked, giving him a strange look.

Jaskier took a small shuffling step forward.

"I– I think I don't want tea after all," Jaskier said, unable to get any closer. He'd just drink water.

"What the hell are you so nervous about? I can hear your heart beating like a drum on Belleteyn," Lambert said, turning to look at Jaskier properly.

Shit. Of course he could.

"I… Uh… You, close…" Jaskier mumbled, making a vague gesture and feeling his cheeks heating up.

"You could have just asked me to move." Lambert shrugged, backing away to give Jaskier more space.

That… Would have been logical.

"Look, Jaskier, I'm no Geralt or Eskel. I don't know how to read your needs so you have to tell me if there's something bugging you," Lambert said, crossing his arms. "I'll never bend you over the table and fuck your ass or whatever you're afraid of for speaking up or any other reason."

Jaskier felt like he had been hit.

His ears were ringing and the image of that happening was flashing in his mind.

He was so cold.

It was impossible to breathe.

He couldn't feel his legs.

"Fuck! I didn't mean to say that!"

He could feel fingers tracing the scars on his lower back.

He couldn't _breathe_.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Can't call for Geralt. Or Eskel. Vesemir is outside. Why the fuck do you have to have a panic attack _now_?"

He was so terrified by the prospect of what could happen.

The fear was the only thing existing.

"Hey, Jaskier, use your lungs."

They didn't work.

Maybe he didn't even have them.

"Breathe, dammit! In and out. You do it every day. Just do it slowly."

He couldn't. He couldn't. He couldn't.

"It's, uh, safe here. No one is going to fu– do what I said. You need to breathe, seriously. Fuck! Did you hurt yourself? Can you get up?"

Oh. Maybe his legs really had disappeared.

"Shit, are you going to have a heart attack? Geralt will fucking kill me if you keel over. Jaskier, you really need to breathe. In and out. I can count for you? Take a breath. Let it out. In again."

That was… Lambert…?

"It's safe. Slow your breathing. I know you know how to, you're a bard. You control your breathing for living for fuck's sake! In and out. Yeah, yeah, like that."

He had lungs again.

They hurt.

His whole chest hurt.

"You're safe, okay. You'll be fine. No threats here. You're in Kaer Morhen. You wanted to be reminded, right? Kaer Morhen. Not wherever the fuck you were back then."

Kaer Morhen. Yes. Winter.

With Geralt's family.

Where _was_ Geralt?

"...Ge– Geralt…?" Jaskier gasped out.

"Not here, he's hunting. You keep that up. Breathing. You know where you are?" It really was Lambert speaking.

"...Kaer… Morhen…"

"Damn right. It's safe here. We're in the middle of fucking nowhere," Lambert said, sounding strange. Jaskier had never heard him use that tone before. "Slow breaths, okay. _Slower_. Yeah, that's fine."

"Uh-huh…"

He could get air through his constricting throat again.

"Okay, good, you really aren't going into a cardiac arrest. Didn't know a human's heart can beat that fast," Lambert said. "Can you get up? Go sit on the bench or something."

"Watch the fucking stove!" Lambert yelled suddenly, making Jaskier flinch hard and realize he had almost placed his hand on it on his quest to stand up.

"Don't burn yourself," Lambert growled, fists clenching.

"...Sorry…" Jaskier murmured, using the counter instead to heave himself up.

"Don't apologize and go sit before you fall down again and crack your head," Lambert huffed and moved to take the kettle off the stove once Jaskier had made his unsteady way to the kitchen table.

"Sorry…" Jaskier repeated, unable to keep the word in. He was so exhausted and everything ached.

There was a cold undercurrent of fear running through him.

"Stop saying that and drink this. Unless you want something stronger," Lambert said, slamming the kettle and an empty mug on the table.

"Haven't been drinking alcohol lately," Jaskier said quietly, hoping the tea would steep faster if he stared at it hard enough.

"Suit yourself but I think it's pretty damn effective for making you forget about everything," Lambert said, serving himself lunch and taking a seat as far from Jaskier as he could.

It was an enticing thought, just drowning his sorrows into alcohol. There might be peace to be found in the bottom of a bottle. Geralt hadn't been on board with the idea. Neither had been Brajan. They weren't here now and Lambert seemed more than willing to share the booze.

"No. Thanks, though," Jaskier sighed, squishing the temptation.

"...Didn't mean to trigger you," Lambert grunted once he had almost finished eating, staring holes in his plate.

"I know…" Jaskier said, voice wavering and unable to look at Lambert.

"Told you I can be an asshole and not think my words through," Lambert continued, sounding like the words took considerable effort. "Can't promise I'll never slip again. I probably will but it's not intentional."

"I know. And Lambert… I'm glad you don't give me promises you can't keep," Jaskier said, managing to make his words steadier despite still feeling completely unbalanced.

At least the tea had finally steeped. The almost-too-hot mug in his shaking hands offered a focus point.

"I don't practice those," Lambert said. "They're fucking bullshit."

"Mmhmm."

"Want me to go find Vesemir? ...Or stay?" Lambert asked, rising up and heading to wash his utensils.

"No," Jaskier said after a moment to think it through. All he wanted was to retreat back to bed and try to sleep. He really wasn't sure if he'd be up to socializing at all for the rest of the day. Hadn't gone too well so far.

He still couldn't look directly at Lambert.

He also couldn't stop tracking his movements.

"Okay," Lambert said simply, walking out of the kitchen.

Jaskier hated that it was a relief.

It took far more self-control than Geralt would have thought to not run up the stairs to his and Jaskier's room. There might not be anyone else around but he'd know and that was a reason enough to not act like a fool.

It was a ridiculous urge.

It had been hours, not years since last seeing Jaskier.

Giving his customary knock didn't elicit any reaction from inside so Geralt opened the door slowly and stepped in, looking around the dark room. There were no candles lit and even the fireplace had gone out. The unmoving lump on the bed was probably Jaskier, buried underneath enough blankets and furs to obscure him completely from this angle.

"Jaskier?" Geralt asked, feeling uneasy.

There was no answer.

Kneeling beside the bed revealed that Jaskier was sleeping, breathing steady and calm. A relief.

"Jaskier?" Geralt tried again, louder.

There still was no response but Geralt did spot empty vials on the nightstand. A quick sniff revealed them as a sleeping potion and a painkiller. The scent of Jaskier's breath told Geralt that it hadn't been long at all since the bard had taken them now that he knew to focus on it. It definitely made sense that Jaskier wasn't reacting to his presence.

Why he had taken them was another thing.

It was strange and worrying that Jaskier had been so desperate to sleep that he'd take one while alone. Geralt knew perfectly well how vulnerable Jaskier felt while sleeping. Reason for the painkiller at least was far easier to parse together; most likely a bad headache.

With a deep unhappy frown Geralt collected the vials and re-lit the fire. The room was starting to cool down. After taking a few agitated laps around the room, he sat down heavily on a chair. His good mood from the hunt was starting to disappear, familiar worry replacing it. Worry and frustration about not knowing what had happened while he was gone. Clearly _something_ had.

Unable to sit still and knowing Jaskier wouldn't be waking up anytime soon Geralt headed back downstairs where he had last seen Lambert. Hopefully he'd have the answers so he wouldn't have to go locate Vesemir.

"Lambert, do you know how Jaskier's day went?" Geralt asked the moment he saw his brother.

"Why don't you ask him?" Lambert said, looking defensive.

So he did know something.

"He's sleeping," Geralt said. "Tell me."

"Didn't see him after lunch." Lambert shrugged. "I'm not his keeper."

"I know something happened. Spill."

"If Jaskier is sleeping, what the fuck makes you think something went down?"

"Because he has knocked himself out with a sleeping potion!" Geralt snapped, done with the dance.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Lambert cursed, guilt flashing on his face briefly. Squaring his shoulders, Lambert looked Geralt straight in the eye. "He had a panic attack. I could have handled things better."

"How bad?" Geralt pressed.

"Bad, I guess. It's not like I have much to compare it to. Worse than the one I saw before," Lambert said, sounding serious.

"Do you know what triggered it?" Geralt asked, wanting –needing– all the details.

The defensive change in Lambert's stance was enough for Geralt to know whatever it had been, it had been caused by him. Lambert accidentally triggering Jaskier definitely had been a question of when, not if, it'd happen. Geralt still felt like growling and throttling Lambert.

"What did you do?" Geralt asked, unable to keep an angry undercurrent from his voice.

"Said the wrong thing," Lambert said, standing straight and not averting his eyes.

"You know what to avoid," Geralt said. "We've told you. Even added more specific ones after the initial rundown."

"When have you seen me censor the way I speak, huh?" Lambert retorted. "Aside from with Jaskier, that is. I'm fucking trying. Don't expect me being able to evaluate every single fucking word that comes out of my mouth. Not my fault he's so sensitive."

It was true, he did know Lambert was trying.

"Don't you dare to blame Jaskier for his reactions," Geralt still growled. "They're involuntary and he wishes they'd stop more than anyone else ever could."

"I know," Lambert said, crossing his arms.

_"Good."_

"You done snarling and being all protective?" Lambert asked, raising his eyebrows.

"...Maybe," Geralt granted.

"Great. I have other things to do than listen to you," Lambert said. "And Geralt, I really _do know_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geralt is having Eskel loving hours and Lambert was *so close* to making his point in a good way. He is sincerely trying.
> 
> Also, in ye olde days people used a single staff while skiing instead of the two thin poles of today.


	15. Chapter 15

"Why the fuck did you do that?"

"Mmrph?" Jaskier mumbled, wiping drool from his chin and trying to piece together what Geralt meant. He could have at least waited asking until he had properly woken up and gotten rid of the disgusting evidence of having slept open-mouthed.

"The sleeping potion. Why did you take it?" Geralt elaborated, scowling.

"For sleeping," Jaskier said. "It's in the name, Geralt."

"You've never taken one while alone and it wasn't even very late in the evening," Geralt said.

"Wasn't the point of yesterday to do our own things separately?" Jaskier huffed.

"Did you drug yourself?" Geralt asked, voice tightly controlled in the way that Jaskier knew meant a brewing storm.

"What the hell, Geralt? No, I didn't drug myself," Jaskier said, offended.

"Then why?"

"To get some sleep. Obviously."

"Lambert told me you had a panic attack and holed up in our room afterwards," Geralt said, sounding accusing.

"I didn't do it for recreation!" Jaskier snapped. "I'd have gotten drunk if I wanted to do something like that. There's plenty of alcohol here. And it wasn't even that early."

What the fuck was up with Geralt this morning? It wasn't as if he had never used the potions. Sure, he tried to limit the use but they still were necessary far more often than he'd like.

"You're not going to start drinking," Geralt snapped back.

"I'd be either having the hangover of my life or still roaring drunk if I had decided to go for a bottle."

This wasn't how he had imagined the reunion to go. At all.

"Are you sulking because I didn't wait up for you to return?" Jaskier asked, running his hands down his face.

"No! I'm fucking worried you used a potion to avoid dealing with things!" Geralt yelled, making Jaskier flinch and hunch his shoulders.

"I was exhausted. Couldn't rest during the day. Even after the attack. I was too anxious," Jaskier forced the stilted sentences out, staring at the mattress. "Didn't want nightmares. Knew you'd come back."

He could hear Geralt take a few deep breaths through his nose.

"You really used it for its intended purpose?" Geralt confirmed, sounding calmer.

"Yes."

"Good."

It was an awkward silence that settled over them.

Deciding to make sure the uncomfortable conversation really had ended, Jaskier rolled to the other side of the bed and stood up. The moment he was upright his vision was filled with black spots and a rushing sound filled his ears. Suddenly he was sitting on the bed again.

"Jaskier?" Geralt asked, sounding concerned.

"I'm fine," Jaskier mumbled, waving his hand and standing up again far slower. "Mind stepping out for a bit?"

"Hmmm."

Such a doubtful hum but Geralt did leave so that was good.

Moving around slowly and taking extra care when bending down, Jaskier changed his clothes and tried to make himself look halfway presentable. Whether or not it worked was another matter since apparently he really, really should have eaten something yesterday. Maybe his problems with food had lasted long enough for his body to just want to quit if he ate even less than usual. Wouldn't be a surprise. Especially since he had finally managed to get some sort of routine going on lately. A tenuous one but still.

"Breakfast?" Jaskier suggested, opening the door.

Another, more pleased, hum was his answer as Geralt started walking.

Jaskier had never realized how treacherous Kaer Morhen's staircases could be until he was traversing them light-headed. Each stretch of even floor was a song worthy miracle. The kitchen deserved its own concert.

Water helped.

As did a small bowl of porridge topped with dried berries and nuts.

"Big plans for today?" Jaskier asked, tapping his spoon against the bowl's rim and feeling much more like a human being again.

"No."

"How very exciting, Geralt. But in that case, could you help me finish my hair?"

"Sure," Geralt agreed, eyes drifting to Jaskier's lopsided hair.

It took effort not to rake fingers through it.

"Thanks, love," Jaskier said, giving a fleeting smile.

Geralt just harrumphed and stood up, grabbing Jaskier's empty bowl so quickly the tapping spoon hit the table instead.

Jaskier gave a few more idle taps before chucking the spoon at the back of Geralt's head as he turned away.

"What the hell, Jaskier?" Geralt asked, leaning his head to the left and letting the spoon fly harmlessly past him without looking.

"You need to keep up your reflexes?" Jaskier offered.

"And you're going to make sure of it by pelting me with spoons?"

"Sounds good to me. Better than arrows."

"Can you shoot a bow?" Geralt asked, sounding interested.

"Of course I can," Jaskier said. "Just don't expect me to hit anything."

"That's a no then."

"You asked if I can shoot, not how skilled I am," Jaskier pointed out, retrieving the spoon from the corner it had rolled in.

"Nice to see you're feeling good enough to be pedantic." Jaskier could practically hear the eye roll in Geralt's tone.

"Part of my charm, dear heart," Jaskier said cheerily, dropping the spoon to join the other utensils and bowls in the dishwater.

In retaliation to the sudden endearment Geralt scooped a mugful of dishwater and splashed it on Jaskier's face in one swift movement.

They both froze immediately.

Jaskier knew the water was warm. He felt cold.

There was soapwater in his hair. Dripping down his face.

He needed to–

"Outside. Help navigate."

He knew how to get to the front door. He couldn't remember. Everything was foggy.

He did remember the exact step count it had taken to cross Marden's guest bedroom.

"Hand," Jaskier said, word shaking and reaching out.

Without a single question Geralt took hold and tugged him, walking fast.

There were double images flashing with each blink. He was choking on the water poured over his head without a warning.

A cold blast of air alerted Jaskier that they had crossed the threshold. Immediately, Jaskier let go of Geralt's hand to take a few shaky steps to reach the undisturbed snow and let himself collapse to his knees to bury his hands and forearms as deep as he could.

"Jaskier, what are you doing?"

Geralt. That was Geralt.

"Different. No snow," Jaskier forced out, trying to focus on the external cold, not the one in his chest. "Grounding. Close to– close to flashback."

"Just don't freeze your fingers," Geralt said. "Keep talking. Tell me what's around us."

"Snow. You. The keep. Shovel."

There was comfort in the routine, something to cling to. Something to help him focus on the real world, not the memories and the past images. His shins and hands were wet and freezing. He loved it. Loved the way the sensation was grounding him, making him pay attention to what was real, connecting him to his body. He could breathe despite the weight in his chest and the tears blurring his sight. He knew where he was. When he was. Could hear and understand Geralt's words. Managed to even get words of his own out.

_He wasn't having a flashback._

It had almost swallowed him.

There were hands on him.

There was water running down his face.

But he wasn't trapped in the past.

"...Hi…" Jaskier mumbled, not moving.

"Feeling better?" Geralt asked, sounding so concerned and guilty it hurt.

"...Yeah. No flashback after all." Jaskier nodded. "False alarm. Sorry."

"There was nothing false about it," Geralt said. "You just managed it really well."

"If I had managed it well, I would just have wiped my face dry," Jaskier retorted, frustration at himself starting to rise. "I'm sorry I overreacted."

"You did _not_ overreact," Geralt said firmly before softening his voice. "Jaskier, I'm sorry. I should have thought of what I was doing. I know how hard it is for you to deal with anything involving water, let alone having it suddenly on your face and hair."

"Thank you," Jaskier said quietly. The apology did make him feel better. Geralt probably wouldn't repeat the splashing. Not on purpose. "Help me up?"

It felt like his legs were frozen solid, his trousers not suited for frolicking –or kneeling in this case– in snow. His fingers and forearms too felt more like icicles by now, having been buried in snow for so long. But it had worked and that was all he cared about right now.

Jaskier did care about it once his fingers started to ache when he warmed them up by the fireplace in their room after changing clothes.

"I do still want to finish cutting my hair today," Jaskier said, looking at Geralt. "A bit later but today nonetheless. This lopsided haircut is starting to drive me crazy and I'm crazy enough as is."

"You're not crazy," Geralt huffed, staring back at him.

Jaskier wondered if Geralt was waiting for him to start panicking again.

"Call it what you want. Doesn't change the fact." Jaskier shrugged, stretching his fingers and deeming them to be sufficiently thawed. Still chilly but functional.

Ignoring Geralt's wordless grumble, Jaskier sat down on the mattress and patted it. "Would you join me, please?"

Once Geralt was sitting next to him, he continued, "Geralt, I'm not angry at you. What happened wasn't good but I know you didn't do it with the purpose of triggering me. I don't expect you –or anyone else– to always be able to be mindful of all the things I struggle with. It's not feasible."

"I fucking know what I did isn't something you can deal with, should never have done that to you," Geralt said seriously. "You have the right to be angry with me."

"It's not about whether or not I have the right," Jaskier sighed. "I just don't feel angry. Please don't be angry with yourself either. Things happen and you'll slip. I don't expect you to be perfect, Geralt."

"I'm not supposed to hurt you," Geralt said.

"Everything hurts me, even I," Jaskier said tiredly. "You can't control it and neither do I. Maybe one day I'll be well enough to not fall apart at the slightest nudge but who knows."

"It wasn't a slight one."

That was true. It had been pretty damn horrible thing to do. Maybe if he wasn't this tired, numb, and weary he really would be seething at Geralt for having done so. He really did know far better than to throw soapy water on his face, no matter how little.

"Mmhmm."

"Jaskier."

"I just don't have it in me to be pissed at you, Geralt. If I have a belated reaction, I'll try to let you know," Jaskier said.

"Good."

They had been sitting in silence for a while before Jaskier huffed, "Stop beating yourself up and hug me. If you want to, that is."

Geralt did want to.

Jaskier felt like he was melting against Geralt. He felt calmer than the whole morning, finally getting to feel the slow heartbeat and being gently circled in an embrace. He had missed it despite last time having been only the previous morning.

"Jaskier, you did great earlier," Geralt said.

"Huh?"

"Calming yourself before slipping into a flashback."

"Ah. I… I couldn't not try something. And it still was a really, really close thing," Jaskier said, shaking his head. "Not so great if you ask me."

"Good thing I'm not asking. Jaskier, you're getting better at figuring out how to calm down," Geralt said, sounding sincere. "Don't have panic attacks and flashbacks as often as before in general."

At that Jaskier couldn't help snorting derisively. "Geralt, I just almost had a flashback and yesterday had a full-blown panic attack."

"You're not having them daily. I'm serious, Jaskier. The frequency has gone down a lot. Same with nightmares," Geralt said.

"...I guess," Jaskier granted. "Eating regularly is getting easier too…"

"See?"

After all this time it still felt weird when Geralt was the more optimistic one out of them.

"Since you're so enamored with my tenuous progress, is it okay if we do the touching practice?" Jaskier asked, smiling at the silly name they called it.

"Just mind your limits," Geralt said, letting go and shuffling until he was sitting opposite Jaskier.

"I think you won't be getting any kisses this time," Jaskier said, taking hold of the offered hand and starting to trace his fingers all around it.

Done with the hand and wrist Jaskier slowly ran his hand along Geralt's forearm and bicep, then shoulder before repeating the same on the other side.

"Turn around?" Jaskier requested.

"Shoulder blades?" Geralt asked, doing so without hesitation.

"If you're alright with it," Jaskier said.

"Yes," Geralt confirmed, relaxed.

He didn't tense up as Jaskier gently brushed the back of his shoulders and shoulder blades. Didn't seem to mind Jaskier briefly resting his hand between them. Being able to touch Geralt like this had stopped causing him anxiety after far more practice than Jaskier wanted to admit.

"Can I… Can I touch your leg?" Jaskier asked after taking a break to center himself.

They'd be getting into the still turbulent waters next if Geralt agreed.

"I am. You're sure you want this, aren't doing it because you think you need to?" Geralt checked in turn.

"I am."

"Then go ahead. My blanket permission to touch me whenever and however you want to is still standing."

It was so nice to be reminded of it.

Slowly, Jaskier placed fingers on Geralt's right shin after he had turned around again. Not pressing, not moving. Just lightly holding them there and trying to identify how he was feeling about it.

Nervous.

Glad to have Geralt's trust.

Slightly scared for absolutely no reason.

It really was pathetic how difficult this was.

"It's okay to stop here," Geralt said, probably noticing the change in his pulse.

"...Yeah…" Jaskier muttered reluctantly. "Might be for the best."

One day he'd be able to touch Geralt wherever he was allowed to, hopefully everywhere. It just wouldn't be happening for a while. It'd take even longer for Geralt to be able to touch him freely if it'd even happen. Hopefully it would. He wanted it. Except he didn't _want_ it. Not currently, not as something actually happening. He wanted the thought, the essence, of it. Not the action.

"Are you alright?" Geralt asked the familiar question.

"Tired. It's been a long day," Jaskier said.

"It's barely noon," Geralt pointed out.

"In that case it'll be a disgustingly long day."

"Want to rest before going to get lunch?"

"Sounds good." Jaskier nodded.

It really had been a fucking long day already. It felt like he had had a speedrun of a full week in a few hours.

"You can't kill the practice dummy, Geralt. It was never alive," Eskel said, watching Geralt punch it repeatedly.

Not responding, Geralt landed a powerful roundhouse kick on it.

"I stand corrected," Eskel whistled, watching the straw-stuffed head fly off.

The next kick caused a worrying splintering sound, the whole dummy swaying wildly and bent out of shape.

"Why are you murdering the training equipment?"

"Hnn."

"Something happened with Jaskier?"

"Hn."

"Did you have a fight?"

"Should have."

"...Right. I need more context, Geralt," Eskel said, steering Geralt away from the sagging dummy bleeding stuffing. "Why in the world would you want to fight with him?"

"I don't but he should have been angry," Geralt grumbled. "Instead he just shrugged it off and focused on me."

"Why should he be angry?" Eskel asked, looking both curious and vaguely worried.

"I splashed dishwater on him."

"That's all? Seriously, Geralt, are you beating yourself up for getting his clothes wet?" Eskel shook his head, sounding long-suffering.

"I aimed it at his _face_ ," Geralt said through gritted teeth. "He has literal fucking nightmares involving soapy water running down his face and hair."

"Oh. Oh fuck," Eskel breathed, eyes wide. "Is he alright?"

"Fuck if I know. He seems to think so," Geralt said, crunching ice under his heel. "He's resting currently."

"So that's why he didn't join the warm up today," Eskel said. "Still, shouldn't you trust his word on how he's feeling?"

"Jaskier narrowly avoided a full flashback. He never does well afterwards."

"Maybe he's just doing better enough that it's not as difficult anymore?"

"Or he's denying things again," Geralt grunted. "He has a habit."

"Sounds like someone I know," Eskel said pointedly.

"This isn't about me," Geralt said.

"Seems to be," Eskel said. "I think you're hoping Jaskier to be angry at you because you're angry at yourself. You do that with us too."

"That's not it."

Was it?

"Do some self-reflection, Geralt. You know I'm right."

"Hnnn."

Geralt knew Jaskier should be furious. It didn't matter it had been a second of thoughtlessness, not intentional. It wasn't right for it to be just brushed aside like it didn't matter. It did. Jaskier mattered. Jaskier's feelings mattered.

"Jaskier isn't reacting like he should," Geralt said, continuing crunching ice. "What if he's afraid to say anything?"

"I feel like pushing you into that snowpile," Eskel huffed. "You keep telling Jaskier there's no right or wrong way for him to react and now you say that?"

"It's not the same," Geralt protested, feeling the full weight of Eskel's disapproving stare.

"It is."

…It was.

"No, it's not."

"I know you agree with me."

"Fuck you," Geralt grumbled quietly.

"Keep your feelings separate from others', Geralt. You've got more than enough to work on without it," Eskel said, nudging him with an elbow.

"Hmmm."

"Do you want to murder some more dummies?"

"No," Geralt said. "I'm good."

It was almost annoying that a few sentences from Eskel had been more effective than beating one for half an hour.

"You're done projecting your anger on others then?" Eskel asked.

"That's not what I was doing," Geralt couldn't help but protest despite knowing he wouldn't be believed.

"Of course not," Eskel said with fake sympathy, messing up Geralt's hair before walking away after telling to pass on his well-wishes to Jaskier.

It took a while longer before Geralt too left.

He found Jaskier laying on the bed on his back and legs up against the headboard, open songbook on his face. There was no crackling scent of ozone in the air. Maybe he really wasn't angry.

It was hard to accept.

"Jaskier?" Geralt asked when Jaskier didn't react to his presence.

"Geralt," Jaskier said in return.

Not asleep then.

"Everything okay?"

"Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."

"Anything I can do?"

"Yank my hair out."

"I could hold a mirror for you if you still want to finish cutting it," Geralt offered.

It didn't sound like a good idea but it'd be far better than Jaskier suddenly starting to feverishly cut it without a warning, especially if he wouldn't be there with him.

Geralt's fingers were itching to confiscate the scissors again.

Instead he retrieved the haircutting kit and the small hand mirror when Jaskier agreed.

"Jaskier, you know that you don't actually have to finish? You can do it in smaller sections," Geralt said, finding the right height and angle for the mirror to reflect Jaskier's face.

"...Yeah." Jaskier nodded, looking vaguely disgusted as he stared into the mirror.

It wasn't right.

"Oh well… Here I go," Jaskier muttered, making the first cut.

The snip of the scissors always sounded deafening when Jaskier worked on his hair. It was difficult to watch him getting paler with each cut, to observe the way his eyes started to well up and hands shake. To know such a simple thing was causing him pain. To know there was nothing he could do to help him. Holding the mirror up wasn't actually doing much more than offering mental support. …For both of them.

"Take a break," Geralt suggested the moment he heard the first sniffle. He wouldn't let things devolve the same way it had previously done, not if there was something he could do.

"Mmhmm," Jaskier hummed, placing the scissors on the floor and flexing his fingers.

"How are you feeling?" Geralt asked, wanting actual words.

"I don't know," Jaskier said, avoiding his eyes. "At least I don't want to toss the scissors away from me."

"That's good. Do you want to stop completely?" Geralt asked.

"No," Jaskier said resolutely, quickly wiping his eyes. "I'm going to do this."

With a deep inhale he picked up the scissors again and brought them to his short hair, not even waiting for Geralt to move the mirror.

It took three more breaks for Jaskier to finally finish.

Geralt was pleased Jaskier had for once paced himself instead of just doing everything in one go, pushing himself either over or to the brink of his breaking point. Jaskier didn't seem as happy about it.

"Sorry I took so long," Jaskier said, packing up the haircutting kit. "It should have been quick. Did I keep you from doing something?"

"Don't apologize," Geralt huffed, unable to keep his annoyance from his tone. "You didn't keep me from anything. I have nothing better to do."

"Mmhmm."

"Shit. That came out wrong," Geralt said, annoyance with Jaskier changing into annoyance with himself. "I haven't promised anyone to go do something and even if I had, I'd rather be late."

"Thanks for helping," Jaskier said, still not looking at him.

"Do you have any other plans for today?" Geralt asked, wanting to steer the conversation somewhere else.

"No. I'm the one with the exciting life this time," Jaskier said, voice slightly lighter than a minute ago. "Might try working again though. The earlier attempt didn't lead anywhere."

"Looked like it." Geralt nodded. "Smushing the songbook onto your face isn't how you usually get lost in the words."

"Not effective either."

"Hmmm."

"Did you have good time training?" Jaskier asked. "I should probably apologize to Vesemir for not showing up without even giving a heads-up."

"It's fine. He won't bug you about it unlike he'd do with us," Geralt said. "Eskel sent you well-wishes."

"That's nice of him," Jaskier said, finally turning to face Geralt. Shifting his weight nervously, Jaskier continued, "Could we hug?"

"Of course," Geralt said, opening his arms only to have Jaskier almost run into him.

"Thank you," Jaskier whispered, clutching Geralt close. "Sorry I demand things from you."

"You don't," Geralt said firmly, drawing circles on Jaskier's shoulder blade.

"It feels like I do. I need so much support, have fucking hard time even with simple things. It shouldn't be like that, you're not my nursemaid," Jaskier said. "I shouldn't even need help with everything."

Geralt would never deny it being a complicated situation they were in. Jaskier was right about needing a lot of help and him being the primary source which sometimes made it hard to define their relationship. It was romantic, absolutely, but also so many other things. He had never thought he'd end up being any sort of caregiver or one giving emotional support, let alone while trying to navigate a romance at the same time.

"Not about 'shoulds' and 'should nots'. Things are what they are," Geralt said seriously. "Jaskier, really listen to me. You obviously have bad problems and sometimes it's difficult but I'm here because I want to be. No one is forcing me or paying me to be your nursemaid or whatever the fuck you called it. I'm not your keeper. I'm your– I'm your partner."

Swallowing, he continued awkwardly, "I know shit-all about romance but from what I've gathered couples are supposed to help and support each other. Even if that's not true, it still is what _I_ want to do."

Geralt hoped Jaskier couldn't feel the way his heart was drumming. Talking about love was mortifying. He didn't know how to do it like Jaskier, couldn't make his words paint pictures and describe abstract concepts into something tangible as they flowed. All he could do was to force words out and hope he didn't use the wrong ones.

"I don't deserve you," Jaskier whispered so quietly Geralt had trouble hearing him.

"The role of a self-condemning one is already taken," Geralt said, startling a laugh from Jaskier.

"Are you admitting to doing that?" Jaskier asked, loosening his hug to lean back enough to lock eyes.

"No."

"You keep telling yourself that," Jaskier said, letting go and heading to the bed. "Come join me?"

"Hmmm."

It was peaceful to lay facing each other, hands loosely entangled and simply breath together in silence, unwinding from everything that had been happening since the morning.

Having his hair short, really short, again felt good. There were enough problems without it, like–

"Lambert will be at the dinner, won't he?" Jaskier asked quietly, idly playing with Geralt's fingers and keeping his eyes closed.

"Probably."

"I wish I wasn't nervous about it. I don't hold yesterday against him but well… you know how I can get," Jaskier said.

"What did he say to you?" Geralt asked, a frown in his voice.

"Nothing you need to know, Geralt," Jaskier said firmly. "Just… Stay with me?"

"I will."

"Thank you."

Not that Geralt would be wandering away even if he hadn't asked. But it helped to hear the confirmation. It'd be easier to figure out how to move forward with Geralt by his side. There was no way he'd let an instance of unfortunate word choice from Lambert to dictate things from now on. Hopefully the little break from seeing him had been enough in itself.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" Geralt asked.

"You're very sweet, offering to listen but yes, I'm sure," Jaskier said with a small smile.

Geralt's face was very close when Jaskier opened his eyes. Distractingly close.

"May I kiss you?" Jaskier whispered.

"Now? Here?" Geralt asked, clearly taken aback.

"We don't have to," Jaskier said quickly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not. Just surprised." Geralt shook his head. "You realize we're laying in bed?"

"I… yeah…" It just hadn't really registered.

"Do you still want to?"

"...No…" Jaskier mumbled, fighting against an urge to hide his face with a pillow.

"Then we won't," Geralt said easily as if there was nothing to it.

"But…" Jaskier started only to let it trail out, knowing Geralt would take it as an insult if he were to offer to still do it.

"No 'but', Jaskier," Geralt said seriously. "Just yes or no."

"Thanks," Jaskier whispered, briefly squeezing Geralt's fingers.

Jaskier could hear the hissing breath Geralt sucked in through his teeth at the word, making him regret having let it slip out knowing Geralt didn't like being thanked for things like that. It just felt right to let Geralt know that he appreciated the choice. He'd try to be better at cutting it back.

"We should probably get going," Jaskier said, letting go of Geralt to sit up and tug his boots on. "Who's cooking tonight?"

"Vesemir."

"Do you think he'll accept setting the table as an apology for not showing up?" Jaskier asked, holding the door open for Geralt.

"Hmmm."

An affirmative hum.

Jaskier was sure he would have been able to tell the cook even before setting a foot in the kitchen just from the smells as they neared it even if Geralt hadn't given him an answer. There really was no competition against Vesemir's cooking, not even Lambert's getting close to it.

"Hello, boys," Vesemir greeted them, making Jaskier blink at being included in the endearment.

"Hi. I'm sorry I didn't show up for the warm up," Jaskier said.

"It's fine. It's not mandatory for you to join us," Vesemir said, cutting fresh bread into slices.

"Thanks. Do you want help?" Jaskier asked, feeling relieved.

"Not with tasting," Vesemir said, gently swatting at Geralt's shoulder as he leaned over the pot to take a look. "But you could go set the table if you want to be useful. Take the bread and butter with you too."

"What's for dinner?" Jaskier asked, walking to the cupboard holding all the plates and bowls.

"Elk stew," Geralt said, still eyeing the pot while moving the bread slices to a basket.

"No wonder it smells delicious," Jaskier said, taking a stack of bowls out.

"You shouldn't flatter the cook before tasting," Vesemir said.

"It's always the perfect time for flattery," Jaskier said before tensing up, worried how his words would be received.

"You should learn some manners from Jaskier, Geralt," Vesemir said, swatting Geralt again for coming too close to inspect the jar he was opening. "Shoo."

"Hmmm."

"Take the bread and go, pup. I don't need you underfoot."

Jaskier couldn't help imagining similar scenes happening in the past with a tiny Geralt running around the kitchen and Vesemir's legs, trying to get into everything. It was a far too adorable image to not chuckle at. It did draw attention from both Witchers but thankfully they didn't ask questions as he shook his head, a smile lingering on his lips.

"Shit."

That wasn't the way Jaskier preferred to be greeted but he did share the sentiment as he locked eyes with Lambert who had just stepped in.

"There are more pleasant ways to let people know of your presence Lambert," Vesemir said, barely glancing over.

"Whatever," Lambert huffed, heading toward the cellar.

"Hi, Lambert," Jaskier said quietly, taking a few shuffling steps away to give him more space to pass.

"Jaskier," Lambert said gruffly and stopped in front of him, leaving a good distance between them. For an awkward second he stood motionless before continuing softer, "Feeling better?"

"...Yes," Jaskier said, touched that Lambert was continuing making amends in his own way. "Sleep helped. Sorry for startling you yesterday."

"You didn't," Lambert said, continuing his way.

Jaskier was absolutely sure it had been a lie. The memories might be a bit cloudy, partly obscured by the pure panic, but he could remember Lambert having been sincerely fretful. Not that it was a surprise he'd deny it. Admitting something like that tended to cause allergic reactions in Witchers from what he had observed.

"Geralt! Don't eat yet," Vesemir's admonishment shook Jaskier out of his thoughts.

Unable to keep silent, Jaskier started laughing as he saw Geralt dipping a bread slice in the simmering stew with an innocent expression and Vesemir pointing at him with a spoon dripping jam.

Sneaky Wolf, using the brief distraction Lambert had caused.

"Out! Out of my kitchen right now!" Vesemir commanded sternly. Looking at Jaskier he added, "You're welcome to stay. Unlike someone, you know how to behave."

"I need to go set the table." Jaskier smiled, warmed by the domesticity.

"You can make Geralt do it."

"True, but I fear there might be no bread left for us if Geralt were to be alone with it."

"He's a greedy bastard," Lambert agreed, joining them with a small keg of beer.

Geralt looked like he wanted to protest but couldn't say anything through the mouthful of bread he was chewing.

Without meaning to, Jaskier took another few steps away from Lambert, not having expected his return. He didn't like the way his heart jumped at it. At least it wasn't a flinch. That'd look even more insulting. It wasn't as if he was _afraid_ of Lambert, just a little wary and that too was far milder than he had feared. Nice to see that familiarity really was making things easier.

Even if Jaskier couldn't stop his eyes from flicking between Lambert and the kitchen table.

It had been an accidental slip of words. Not something Lambert had meant to say and definitely not something he'd ever do. He had even said he wouldn't. Both in the comment and afterward. It just was hard to completely shut the image down now that it had been introduced. He wanted it gone.

"Jaskier. I never would," Lambert said seriously, staring intensely at Jaskier. "Never."

Jaskier knew he hadn't been particularly subtle, he just hadn't thought Lambert would pay any attention.

"Thank you," Jaskier said quietly.

"Don't fucking _thank me_ ," Lambert snapped.

Jaskier could see Geralt open his mouth, looking irritated and Vesemir giving him a sharp gesture to stay silent.

"Sorry. I meant that I know. That I believe," Jaskier said, words steady.

It was almost a revelation that he really did believe, wasn't just saying empty words he knew Lambert wanted to hear. Being a little nervous didn't negate the fact. It felt ridiculously good having such a basic piece of trust finally take root, to truly, honestly, know no one here would hurt him on purpose.

Not a cure-all to his problems but it was as if an immense weight had been lifted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're doing amazing, sweetie!
> 
> (Hehe, 15th chapter on the 15th)


	16. Chapter 16

Jaskier wanted to pretend it was the sub-zero temperature stealing his air as he stepped outside.

It was. Not the anxiety constricting his throat.

It was the caution against possible ice that made his steps slow and eyes flick from place to place.

It was. Not the anxiety causing him to shake.

He could hear the others sparring. Knew he'd be easily heard, knew it wouldn't take even close to a minute for four Witchers to reach his side were anything to happen. Not that anything would. He was the only one crossing the courtyard, heading to the stable. The only one aside from the Witchers in all of Kaer Morhen.

Nothing would happen.

Jaskier didn't quite manage to convince himself.

He was clutching the apple he was carrying too hard.

Roach wouldn't care.

She'd still like it.

He could do this, complete his self-appointed task of bringing it to her.

The stable was close. He could see it. Despite having to blink rapidly to keep his vision from swimming.

Jaskier wanted to pretend it was the change in temperature stealing his air as he stepped inside.

It was. Not the anxiety constricting his throat.

Not the sob that had lodged there.

Ignoring the other residents for now Jaskier hurried to Roach, desperate for her familiarity and safety. He'd be alright with her. She'd do her best to make sure of it.

Unable to form words Jaskier presented her the small apple, letting her take it from his open palm.

Roach looked happy.

It was good one of them was.

But he had done it. Gone outside alone, came to see Roach without company.

He'd still have to make the return trip but that should be easier to manage. Hopefully. It'd be absolutely mortifying if he ended up stuck here because of his brain, having to call for help to get back. He refused. He'd rather crawl back inside through a flashback than yell for Geralt to come get him. It wasn't an option.

He could breathe normally again.

"Was it tasty?" Jaskier asked Roach, petting her neck after removing his mittens. "Sorry I didn't bring you another. You do deserve a hundred and one apples. Carrots, dried bread, and sugar cubes too. All the good and sweet things in life. But I have only a couple of sugar cubes left so those are for only the most special occasions. Like solstice."

Roach didn't seem very bothered by the news about her expensive treat running out, just shifted her weight.

"What kind of a braid would my dearest lady like today?" Jaskier asked, retrieving her brushes and combs. "A running one? Lattice work? Cute little buns?"

It felt good chattering at Roach. She didn't care if his voice occasionally caught when he was startled by some sound.

Her coat was shiny and at least the double of its summer thickness. Perfect for slightly sticking his fingers into it to feel her warmth. She patiently let him dote on her and amuse himself by giving her ridiculous hairdos on her fringe before actually setting out to give her adorable little buns running down her neck.

"What do you think, might Geralt let me give him double buns on top of his head so you could match? Sort of."

Roach just huffed at the idea and lowered her head to return to munching hay.

"You're right. That'd be too much," Jaskier agreed, gently leaning on her. "I still might ask him. Maybe. I don't know. Probably not. I know the answer. I don't want to pester him to let me do to him something he doesn't want. Doesn't feel right at all. A bit disgusting to be honest. No mouse ears for him."

"Thank you for being here for me, Roach," Jaskier said sincerely, hugging her. "I love you."

Roach gave a soft huff.

It felt good to know she cared about him.

"I should start heading back inside. Getting anxious again, you see. This is scary for me, being out alone. Well, I do have you but I'm sure you know what I mean," Jaskier said, reluctant to let go. "I'll just say goodbye to the others."

Knowing to keep his hands to himself, Jaskier simply told Brandy to have a good day. The horse was just as prickly as Lambert.

Vesemir's Blue bumped his face with his muzzle, leaving Jaskier with a smarting nose and smiling. The gelding tended to be slightly overzealous in his greetings. In contrast Scorpion immediately tried to mouth his pockets, having decided him to be a source of treats within the first days after Jaskier had thanked the stallion with some dried bread for getting him and Geralt to the keep.

Moving to the area where the chickens resided, Jaskier inspected their nests for new eggs. There were two.

"Thank you for your hard work, ladies," Jaskier thanked them, picking the eggs up and putting them in his hat for transportation.

The goats wandering around the stable –having once again escaped their pen– Jaskier petted while making his way outside. It'd be pointless to try herding them back. He had no idea where Lil' Bleater had run to. She didn't seem to be in the stable.

The empty courtyard was terrifying.

Jaskier's every instinct was screaming for him to flee, to get inside, to get to safety.

To Geralt.

Jaskier forced his legs to walk, not run. He was going to do this properly. He was. He would.

He couldn't make a detour to the kitchen to leave the eggs.

_He needed to get to safety._

Even if it was only an empty room.

Jaskier barely found the strength to place the eggs gently on the nightstand and violently rip his boots off before curling underneath the covers, not bothering to shed even his cloak.

What he had done was suddenly overwhelming.

He had gone _outside_.

_Alone_.

And stayed in control.

Jaskier didn't know why he was crying now that his trip was already over. Didn't even know whether it was out of fear or relief. At least the others were still training, didn't have to listen to him bawling over nothing. He just couldn't stop. A dam had broken and now he was adrift. It felt safe to let it out. There was no one here to judge or soothe him. No one to blame him for his weakness. No one to even acknowledge his existence. Right now it was exactly what he needed. He didn't want to be seen or heard, didn't want to worry anyone.

Eventually his tears started to slow down and noises quiet down. They always did. He might feel like crying was all he had done in months but it wasn't physically possible. Jaskier wished it would have made him feel better but now he just felt empty as if the tears had left a void inside of him.

He was once again craving for Geralt to come back.

He didn't want to be alone for a second longer.

Jaskier knew he wouldn't be able to leave the room by himself for a while. He just couldn't. He'd just have to wait. Geralt would head here first before looking for him anywhere else and the practice had to be over by now or at least winding down. He'd have company soon. He'd just have to hang on a little longer. He could do that.

It was calming to fidget with his beads, allowing some of the anxious energy thrumming through him to escape. Jaskier was incredibly relieved their usefulness hadn't diminished during the months.

There was the familiar knock on the door and sound of Geralt entering.

"Jaskier?"

"Hi, Geralt," Jaskier said quietly, voice stuffy with the tears that had gone away.

"Is something wrong?" Geralt asked, coming to kneel by the bed to be more on level with him.

"No and yes," Jaskier said, deciding to be honest despite not knowing how much sense he'd make. "Just… Feeling a lot at the same time."

"Why are there eggs on the nightstand?" Geralt asked suddenly, sounding completely baffled.

"Ladies had laid new ones. Couldn't make myself go to the kitchen to drop them off."

"New ones…?" Geralt said slowly. "Did you… go to the stable?"

"Yeah. I did." Jaskier nodded. "Wanted to test if I could. And wanted to see Roach."

"You went to the stable. Alone. Outside," Geralt said, a smile starting to form. "How did it go?"

"Well. It went well," Jaskier said, still feeling disbelieving. "I didn't panic or have a flashback. I managed it."

"Jaskier, I'm so fucking proud of you," Geralt said with a blinding smile. Jaskier could count with his fingers how many times he had seen it on Geralt during the years they had known each other. It took his breath away.

"I…" Jaskier trailed off, not sure what to say at the face of Geralt's visible excitement.

"You do realize that's a huge accomplishment, right?" Geralt asked, a frown replacing the smile.

Jaskier wished he could have said something to keep it for a while longer.

"I do. I'm just… overwhelmed. Feeling a lot at the same time like I said," Jaskier said, finally finding the will to drag himself up into a sitting position instead of curling underneath the mountain of covers.

"Understandable," Geralt granted, eyeing the cloak still around Jaskier's shoulders.

Reminded, Jaskier took it off. It was getting hot anyway.

"Geralt, I was thinking that once I'm ready to actually wander around instead of just beelining to the stable if I could take Roach with me? To walk around with her if it's okay with you," Jaskier said hesitantly. It felt like a silly thing to ask but Roach would make it so much easier.

"You can," Geralt said immediately.

"Really?"

"Really. If you feel better about doing it with Roach, you should do so. She'll enjoy the extra outings too."

"Thank you, Geralt," Jaskier said softly, suddenly bursting with love. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Geralt said, eyes warm and pleased.

"May I kiss your hand?" Jaskier asked, realizing with a stab of disappointment that giving one on the lips would be too much.

The smile returned to Geralt's lips as he gave his consent.

"I love you," Jaskier said before kissing the scarred knuckles.

"Hmmm."

"I really do. So much."

"...Same," Geralt said, still smiling.

"Does anyone want to come skiing with me?" Eskel asked, finishing his lunch.

"Sure." Lambert shrugged.

"I don't know how to do it," Jaskier admitted as everyone turned to look at him, knowing Geralt's answer would depend on his.

"What the fuck? Did you come here thinking you'd be completely snowed in with absolutely no way to get the hell out of here?" Lambert asked, sounding aghast.

"...Yes?"

He had. Not that he had any plans to leave.

"Unbelievable," Lambert muttered, shaking his head.

"Do you want to learn?" Geralt asked.

"Could be fun," Jaskier said. It really did sound interesting.

"Great. Let's meet outside in twenty," Eskel said with a smile, gathering everyone's plates and dumping them into the dishwater he quickly heated up with a sign.

It was such a neat trick, not having to wait for water to warm up or needing a tinderbox. If he could, Jaskier would love to know how to replicate it. But alas, he was stuck with the old fashioned way.

"Do you have a pair of skis I can borrow?" Jaskier asked Geralt as they exited the keep after adding more layers in preparation for spending time outdoors.

"Yes, Jaskier. We're not going to fashion you your own," Geralt said. "At least until you know how to ski and have decided if it'd be worth the effort. We don't have ones that are optimal for your weight but it's not that big of an issue."

"That affects it?" Jaskier asked, surprised.

"Hmmm."

"Huh. I thought it's only about the height," Jaskier said, tugging his rabbit fur lined gloves on.

"No, it's not," Geralt said, taking him to where Eskel and Lambert were already waiting.

"You should take my skis," Lambert said, looking Jaskier up and down. "They're a little short for you but those two are heavy as overfed bulls so they'll still work better. I'll grab Vesemir's."

"Are you–" Jaskier started only to be interrupted by Lambert shoving the skis at him. It was a perfectly clear answer.

"Put them on," Lambert ordered.

"Not yet," Geralt said immediately. "Let's walk down the hill first. I don't want to see Jaskier try to go down it on skis just to fall and break his legs."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Jaskier muttered, shifting nervously.

"Don't listen to him. You'll be fine," Eskel reassured him, grabbing his own skis and starting to lead the way.

Jaskier was starting to think he might not be.

At least he wouldn't have to worry about anything going wrong that wouldn't be caused by himself with the way there were three armed Witchers around.

"How do they feel?" Geralt asked as Jaskier finished securing his boots to the skis as instructed.

"The same way horses look when they get their first shoes and try to walk," Jaskier said, awkwardly shuffling his feet back and forth.

"I look forward to seeing you eat snow," Lambert said graciously.

"Don't listen to him. You'll be fine," Eskel said.

This time Jaskier was sure he wouldn't be. There was something too eerie about Eskel repeating himself word for word.

"Just kick off and start skiing," Geralt instructed.

"Thank you. That is very helpful to someone who doesn't know how to ski," Jaskier said, trying to gain some momentum only to stay almost in place.

Reaching out with his staff Jaskier managed to drag himself forward using it as an anchor.

"You're supposed to use your legs," Geralt said, circling him.

"I'll show you," Eskel offered, coming to stand next to him. "Try walking. It'll get you moving at least. It'll be easier to figure out the gliding part after that. Don't bother with the staff for now."

It was awkward. But Eskel was right, he did manage to get moving even if it was as steady going as a drunk sheep on a tightrope.

"That's good," Eskel encouraged him while Geralt stared at him and Lambert looked seconds away from laughing. "Now, you've definitely tried to slide on a slippery floor with your socks at some point, right?"

"Yes?"

"Skiing is like that."

To Jaskier those two activities sounded very far away from each other.

"That's it," Geralt said, keeping pace with him and bringing Jaskier's attention to the fact that he had achieved gliding badly between the steps.

The moment Jaskier focused on the movement, his legs slipped and he ended up executing an almost-a-split that ended up with him literally eating snow.

Just as Lambert had predicted.

"That's what I was waiting for!" Lambert laughed, sounding absolutely delighted.

"Are you alright?" Eskel asked.

"Hnnrgh," Jaskier mumbled, spitting snow out

"Can you get up?" Geralt asked, offering Jaskier the staff that he had dropped.

"Yes," Jaskier said, trying to figure out where his limbs were and which way the skis were pointing. Attempting to get to his knees caused him to sink deeper into the snow and getting one of the skis trapped. "...Maybe not."

"Want me to help?" Geralt offered.

"Yes please," Jaskier said, feeling completely stuck and hating it. Not being able to properly move or get away was making him feel anxious.

"I'll dislodge the skis, alright?" Geralt said, tone softer.

Jaskier wondered if everyone could hear the way his pulse had sped up. Most likely yes since Lambert had stopped laughing at him.

"Thanks," Jaskier said, taking a deep breath and purposefully relaxing his muscles as he finally got to his feet. Bending to latch the skis on again he added, "New try."

This time he managed to start the awkward walking process from the get-go and after a while the halting glides made themselves part of it as he followed Lambert's tracks. It took too much concentration to avoid a repeat to take part in the conversation Eskel and Geralt were having as they moved at his pace. It had to be torturously slow for the Witchers. It was no wonder Lambert was skiing back and forth in large circles around them.

Like a puppy that wasn't allowed to just run straight into the forest and disappear. It was honestly rather cute how he was sticking with them –him– instead.

Suddenly Jaskier realized he was gliding. Too much. He wasn't even doing anything yet he just kept going. Downhill.

"How do I stop?" Jaskier asked, voice high as the speed started increasing.

"Move your skis into a loose V-shape," Eskel said. "Don't let them–"

"...cross," he finished lamely as Jaskier accidentally did exactly that and tumbled down.

Jaskier was sure Geralt had been right about broken bones and trying to ski the steep hillside down from the keep. The one he was laying on could barely be called a slope yet it still had defeated him.

"Still in one piece?" Geralt asked, looking down at him with a frown.

"I'm splendid," Jaskier huffed, again having trouble locating his limbs. But Geralt wasn't acting overprotective so that was good. It was nice not being treated like he'd break from taking a little fall.

"How about you don't try to slow down next time?" Lambert offered, coming over too. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Don't do that," Eskel said. "You don't have enough control to steer at that kind of speed. No one wants you to collide with a tree."

"Seconded," Jaskier said, getting on his feet. Almost. The moment he managed to lay the skis flat against the snow and place weight on them, they started sliding causing him to fall onto his ass.

"Turn sideways."

Jaskier was too busy trying to figure out how not to fall yet again to look but from the tone of Eskel's voice it was clear he was smiling.

"Draft horse," Geralt said suddenly.

"Good idea," Eskel agreed.

"What?" Jaskier asked, feeling absolutely perplexed.

"Let's get you on even ground and we'll do the draft horse," Geralt said as if it was meant to make sense.

"In Common, please," Jaskier said, frowning at the Witchers nodding at each other. It was suspicious how pleased they looked.

"Geralt will drag you," Lambert stated.

"He will not," Jaskier protested, eyes wide and doing his best to shuffle away.

"Don't say it like that, Lambert," Geralt grumbled before continuing calmly. "Jaskier, I'm not going to grab and drag you. Or do anything else unless you agree to it. What we call the draft horse would just be letting me drag you behind me by us holding on to the same staffs. It'd help you to learn how to balance."

"And it's fun," Eskel added.

That didn't seem anything like how Lambert's not-really explanation had made it sound like.

"That'd be alright," Jaskier said after a brief moment of thinking and cautiously walking sideways down the slope.

"Just come stand behind me, give me your staff, and grab on," Geralt said, having already made his way down and wriggling his own in the air behind himself.

"So I just hold on?" Jaskier asked, doing as instructed.

"Yeah, just focus on staying upright," Geralt agreed and kicked off. "Let's go."

It felt strange being dragged behind Geralt, not having to think about how to move his legs. It did make it easier to focus on how to shift his weight though like promised.

And was fun.

Geralt was a rather fast skier despite definitely not going full speed.

"You can't see it but Jaskier is smiling, Geralt," Lambert declared, dashing past them again.

There was a pleased hum.

Maybe it wasn't too bad Lambert was giving unnecessary commentary.

"Still good?" Eskel checked, keeping pace with Jaskier.

"Yep!" Jaskier said despite his arms starting to tire out.

Geralt did slow down despite his agreement, probably feeling him shift his grip repeatedly.

A minute later Jaskier was stretching his shoulders and catching his breath, a smile still on his lips. He was feeling so light, so normal. No anxiety or involuntary seeking of threats disturbing him from what they were doing.

"Let's race," Lambert said, nudging Eskel's arm. "Be my horse."

"Where should the goal be?" Eskel asked, grinning.

"Do you want to?" Geralt asked Jaskier.

"Sure," Jaskier agreed, looking forward to learning just how fast Geralt could go with him in tow.

"The Finger," Lambert suggested.

"It'll take about a minute to get there," Geralt said, giving Jaskier some idea about the distance. "It's mostly even ground."

"Let's do this," Jaskier said, making grabby hands at the staffs while Eskel and Lambert got in position next to them.

"You're going down," Lambert said, looking at Jaskier competitively. "Geralt might be faster than Eskel but you have no idea how to help him."

"You weigh twice as much as Jaskier," Geralt pointed out. "Eskel will have to work harder."

"Not a problem," Eskel said, adjusting his grip.

"On three?" Jaskier suggested, ignoring the comment about his physique. There was nothing new about that.

And then they were off.

The staffs were almost yanked right out of his hands as Geralt dashed forward, leaving him no time to adjust. The speed was incredible, it felt like the wind was stealing his voice for a moment before a bright laughter managed to overcome it.

Jaskier knew Lambert was right about him having absolutely no idea how to assist Geralt when they zigzagged around trees, barely hanging on and slowing them down. Eskel and Lambert had taken the lead, Lambert leaning side to side in perfect synchronization with Eskel.

Jaskier would have liked to give Geralt encouragements but he was still too busy laughing in excitement to get the words out and almost sure he'd fall.

As the trees thinned out they started to gain on the pair in front of them, his inexperience not hindering Geralt as much. Jaskier was sure the big solitary rock they were speeding toward was the mark of the goal. The ground was starting to slope down the closer they got, although Jaskier could see it'd be even again right before the finish line. Perfect for one last sprint.

They were getting close to Eskel and Lambert now.

Glancing at Lambert, Jaskier saw him scowl at him and let go of one of the staffs.

Only to trace the _Aard_ sign.

The next second they shot forward as the force hit Eskel's back, pushing him. His surprised scream at the sudden change in speed was a thing to behold. It seemed miraculous Eskel kept his balance instead of just landing on his face.

Jaskier could only feel bad for him as Lambert let go of the last staff right after crossing the finish line, letting Eskel continue his uncontrollable skiing alone.

"Cheater," Geralt huffed as they stopped by Lambert's side, watching together as Eskel got farther away with loud curses aimed at Lambert.

Muscles shaking from fatigue and adrenaline, Jaskier forced his fingers to relinquish their grip on the staffs and bent down to remove his skis.

"Are you alright?" Geralt asked as Jaskier sat down heavily on the snow, sinking a bit and leaning against the rock as he tried to regain his breath.

"Tired," Jaskier said between his panting. It was getting cold too with the way he was drenched in sweat and covered in snow from his falls.

"Shit. Should have thought of that," Geralt said, looking irritated at himself.

"I'm _fine_ ," Jaskier sighed. "Really."

He just wouldn't be running around once they'd be back at the keep. He wasn't looking forward to the trip uphill. Didn't even know how to do it on skis.

Eskel was finally returning, looking like a snowman.

Lambert seemed to share Jaskier's suspiciousness about his perfectly calm and neutral expression since he started to inch away.

With a speed Jaskier had trouble following, Eskel traced an _Aard_ of his own sending Lambert flying.

Jaskier could only blink in astonishment at the strength of magic he had never seen from a sign before. Eskel wasn't particularly close yet Lambert was struggling to extract himself from a snowdrift he had sunk in well and good. It was even one surprisingly far away.

Jaskier wondered what it said about him that he was more worried about the state of Vesemir's skis than Lambert.

"Help me out of this snowdrift, you prick!" Lambert exclaimed, fighting to get out.

"Bad call," Geralt muttered to Jaskier as Eskel advanced toward Lambert.

"With pleasure," Eskel said, shooting fire to melt the snow around him and making Lambert yell in alarm.

"You could have just given me a hand, fucker!" Lambert seethed, suddenly sprawled on slush instead of being stuck in snow.

"And you could have just not used _Aard_ on me," Eskel retorted, helping Lambert up.

"If you two are done, let's head back," Geralt said, assisting Jaskier with getting his skis back on.

"...How do you go uphill without sliding back down?" Jaskier asked, looking at the slope they had raced down with apprehension.

Geralt wondered if his expression was something embarrassingly sappy.

He didn't really care.

Right now he was far too pleased to worry about what his face was showing as he watched Jaskier blink bleary-eyed at him, having just woken up from a nap. Geralt was sure his hair would have been an absolute mess sticking everywhere if it wasn't too short to do so.

"Wha…?" Jaskier mumbled.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Geralt said.

"Oh, did I fall asleep?" Jaskier asked as if surprised. "I don't remember laying down?"

"You fell asleep practically the moment your ass touched the bed," Geralt said, shaking his head fondly.

"Should have seen that coming," Jaskier said, stretching his arms. "I was so very close to asking you for a piggyback ride for the last leg of the return trip."

"Hmmm."

Geralt wanted to admit he would have been more than happy to give one.

"Did you have fun?" he asked instead, needing a confirmation of what he was almost certain of.

"I did." Jaskier smiled, coming to stand next to Geralt. "I really, really did. More than in a long time."

"I'm glad."

"May I kiss you?" Jaskier asked, eyes soft.

Geralt felt like his knees would have gone weak if he hadn't been sitting.

"Yes. Yes," Geralt said, wanting to reach out and draw Jaskier into an embrace.

"I love you," Jaskier said, placing a hand on Geralt's cheek and brushing it with his thumb.

Geralt's mouth was suddenly too dry to even try to say it back. It was ridiculous how strongly Jaskier's demonstrations of love still affected him. Each time felt like he was offered something precious, something absolutely priceless.

The kiss was slow and sweet.

It made Geralt's heart ache in the best possible way.

"Jaskier, I love you," Geralt whispered haltingly as they separated. The words were slowly getting easier the more he said them.

"I love you too," Jaskier whispered back, kissing him again after getting the permission to do so.

It was a short one, Jaskier's chapped lips resting against his for only a few heartbeats. It was just as precious.

It took Geralt serious self-control not to chase Jaskier's touch as he took his hand back.

"I'm sorry I can't touch you for a while longer," Jaskier said quietly, clearly noticing the urge and averting his eyes.

"Don't apologize," Geralt huffed for the uncountable time.

"I'll try. But, Geralt, I really wish I could do it more," Jaskier said with such sincerity Geralt couldn't keep being annoyed.

"I know." He really did as hard as it sometimes was to believe Jaskier honesty wanted to be close to him despite the wish being clear to see a lot of the time. There was nothing to blame Jaskier about the deep rooted insecurity.

"How long did I sleep? Do I have time to try to work before dinner?" Jaskier asked.

"You do," Geralt confirmed, pleased.

"Great. I have no idea if I'll be able to write anything halfway usable but I should try at least."

The occasional quiet humming was such a beautiful sound to Geralt as Jaskier twirled his pen. Feeling content, Geralt returned to the book he had been idly reading.

The few songs Jaskier sang after the dinner were even more beautiful.

Jaskier hadn't bothered to take his lute with him but it wasn't as if the bard needed it. It did make his decision to sing a complete surprise. A very pleasant one but a surprise nonetheless. It did however seem to be the limit of Jaskier's capacity for interaction since he fell silent afterwards.

"Is Jaskier… is he sleeping?" Eskel whispered suddenly, sounding absolutely astonished and halting the conversation that they had been having for a while.

As one everyone turned to look at Jaskier who had curled in the chair he was occupying.

"Holy fuck, he is," Lambert exclaimed quietly.

"Shhhh. Don't disturb him," Vesemir shushed him regardless.

"He really trusts you," Geralt whispered, warmth blooming in his heart at the fact that Jaskier was able to relax enough around the others to fall asleep.

To leave himself completely vulnerable.

It was huge.

It was incredible to see.

"About time for him to figure out we won't attack him," Lambert remarked. His tone was much friendlier than the words themselves sounded.

"You're the last one here to reprimand him for being cautious," Geralt huffed.

"I didn't trigger him on purpose, asshole," Lambert grumbled. "Let it go already. Jaskier clearly has."

"It's good to see him feeling at home here with us," Vesemir said with a small smile as he watched Jaskier sleeping peacefully.

Geralt wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment.

It was hard to focus on the conversation after Eskel pointed out that Jaskier had fallen asleep. Geralt couldn't take his eyes off him. To the point of barely blinking if Lambert was to be believed.

Eventually the quiet conversation trailed off as hours grew late.

"Jaskier?" Geralt said softly, trying to wake him up. "Hey, time to turn in."

"Mmmph."

"Get up," Geralt said at a normal volume now that Jaskier was almost awake.

"...Cozy," Jaskier protested, curling tighter around his knees. To Geralt it didn't seem like a particularly cozy pose to be.

The faint amused sounds his brothers gave mirrored his own opinion but they should have just continued on their way instead of stopping to watch him trying to get Jaskier moving. It wasn't a spectacle. Geralt hoped the glare he shot at them made it clear.

Neither Eskel or Lambert moved. Nor did Vesemir.

"Up," Geralt commanded, having a feeling Jaskier wouldn't.

He didn't.

"Do I have to carry you?" Geralt asked only to freeze, worried how Jaskier would take the comment.

There was a moment of utter silence as Jaskier finally opened his eyes to look at Geralt.

"Yes," Jaskier said, reaching out to him.

"What?" Geralt asked, thrown off-balance.

"Carry me. I don't want to move," Jaskier said steadily, not lowering his arms.

"Are you su–"

"Yes."

With slow and careful movements Geralt lifted Jaskier, holding him against his chest. All Jaskier did was sigh, close his eyes again, and let his temple fall against Geralt's collarbone.

Without checking Geralt knew the expressions his family was wearing, witnessing the scene. He didn't want confirmation that Lambert was smirking, Vesemir smiling supportively or Eskel looking as if planning them a wedding. So he refused to even glance at them, focusing completely on Jaskier.

Besides, it was only Jaskier that mattered right here and now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is having amazing time! And so is everyone else too. 💖


	17. Chapter 17

"We can do this. Right, love?" Jaskier said, voice faint as he gently placed a halter on Roach with shaking hands. "Go outside together. Walk around for a bit."

He had tried to do it a couple of times now. He hadn't been able to actually make himself lead Roach out of the stable yet.

Maybe today.

Maybe.

At least walking to the stable and back was slightly easier than before. Repetition really did help. As did timing his excursions to overlap with the Witchers' training so he could hear them. The sounds reminded him that he really was safe and not actually alone. He didn't feel ready to sever that safety net yet. There was plenty of time to go on walks without the reassuring background noise in the future.

"You're too good to me," Jaskier said as Roach nudged him. Slowly, he led Roach out of her stall.

"It's just the same old courtyard. Nothing has changed. There won't be anything new there. It'll be exactly the same as when I crossed it," Jaskier muttered, trying to make himself open the door.

Jaskier was sure Roach's lead rope was more useful for him to ground himself than to keep Roach from wandering off. She wouldn't do that even without one.

With a trembling inhale Jaskier pushed the stable door open, letting freezing cold air blow in.

Something bumped his left leg, almost tripping him.

"Lil' Bleater! Get back in here!" Jaskier exclaimed, watching the goat joyfully jump around in the snow.

Jaskier quickly led Roach outside and closed the door, not wanting the stable's temperature drop.

Or more escapees join the doe.

"Come here, Lil' Bleater, come," Jaskier said, carefully walking toward her. Hopefully she wouldn't bolt. Jaskier was perfectly aware he wouldn't be able to run after her if she decided to do so. For now the goat was just prancing around.

"I hope you and Roach are friends," Jaskier mumbled under his breath, advancing on Lil' Bleater with the mare.

He was almost close enough to touch now.

Lil' Bleater stopped to look at him before dashing away.

"Please don't do this to me. Eskel will kill me if something happens to you because I accidentally let you out," Jaskier pleaded, realization dawning on him. "Be a good girl and come back inside with me, okay."

The courtyard felt ridiculously huge, the distance between him and Lil' Bleater stretching into miles.

Chest heavy, Jaskier leaned on Roach. She was warm and steady. Safe. Here. With him. She would stay too. Not run away. He didn't have to worry about that. He still didn't want to let go of Roach.

Blinking to make his vision less blurry, Jaskier unlatched the lead rope and tied it into a noose. It'd be easier to use than trying to tug Lil' Bleater back inside by her horns. Slowly, Jaskier started walking toward her, dearly hoping Roach would follow him.

She did.

Someone at least cared about his fraying nerves.

"Come, come. Come to me Lil' Bleater, Lil' Lady."

Lil' Bleater took a step toward Jaskier, only to change her mind and trot to the side. For a goat, she seemed to radiate smugness. Or maybe that just was how all goats were. Jaskier knew he didn't know enough of those to be able to give a proper answer. Although, the rest of Kaer Morhen's goats didn't cause as many problems from what he had heard so maybe it really was just Lil' Bleater.

"I'm sorry I gave all the bread to Roach. If I had known, I'd have saved some for you," Jaskier said softly, voice trembling and trying to approach again.

There were still sounds of sword practice to be heard.

It was reassuring.

Jaskier wanted to run inside and hide.

He couldn't.

Not before Lil' Bleater was taken care of.

"Geralt and Lambert like bad-mouthing you. Let's show them they're wrong, hmmm? Show that you're just as big of a sweetheart as Eskel says you are," Jaskier continued, focusing hard on getting the words out. "You want Eskel to be happy, don't you? He'll worry about you if you escape."

He was close now.

With shaking hands Jaskier lifted the noose, crouching down and leaning toward Lil' Bleater who was staring at him. He hoped the doe wouldn't run away again despite the way she was wiggling in place. It was only as Lil' Bleater took a few steps backwards and lowered her head that Jaskier realized what her body language meant.

By then it was too late.

"Oof," Jaskier gasped in surprise as he found himself on his back, blinking at the sky. He repeated the breathless sound as Lil' Bleater settled to lay on him, tucking her legs primly underneath herself.

Jaskier wasn't sure if her behavior fell underneath the bastard or sweetheart.

Jaskier was sure that she was _heavy_.

"Seriously?" Jaskier spluttered as Roach started mouthing his face, her velvety lips tickling him.

This was absolutely ridiculous.

" _Move_ , you two."

They didn't.

"Nooo, Roach, stop. Stop. That tickles," Jaskier giggled involuntarily as Roach kept her antics up even as he finally got hold of her halter.

"And you, heavy and horned lady, get off me. Your bones are digging into me and it's cold to lay on snow," he added, trying to wriggle away from Lil' Bleater after placing the noose around her neck. Damn goats and their balance. The doe was just swaying with the movements, completely unperturbed.

Perhaps she was a sweet bastard.

"Off!" Jaskier commanded, finally managing to roll onto his side.

This time Lil' Bleater didn't try to run away again. Maybe she had accepted her fate of going back inside now that she was tethered to him. Or maybe she was just biding her time, planning on something. Jaskier was definitely starting to see where Geralt and Lambert were coming from when they complained about Lil' Bleater with suppressed fondness.

It was a relief that neither Roach or Lil' Bleater put up a fight as Jaskier led them back in. Although, he had to admonish the doe for tasting his doublet.

Finally back in his and Geralt's room Jaskier slid down the door all the way to the floor, taking deep breaths. That definitely hadn't gone as he had predicted. Maybe it was good in a sense that Lil' Bleater had escaped. It hadn't left him much time to think about being outside alone running in circles. It had however been absolutely terrifying to think about the doe dashing out of the courtyard and his eyesight. Jaskier really had no idea how he would have told Eskel having lost his goat.

It hadn't happened.

It was all fine.

Lil' Bleater hadn't been hurt and neither had he.

They all were alright.

He was alright. Just needed to keep breathing normally. To focus on the fact that nothing had actually happened. His beads were concrete underneath his fidgeting fingers. The slight hitching of his breathing wasn't hindering him. Neither was the burning in his eyes and nose. He was alright. Things hadn't gone as planned but he was alright.

He was.

Remembering he was still wearing his snowy clothes Jaskier forced himself to stand up and go get dry ones.

They made him feel a little better. Still cold but better. Hopefully Geralt would accompany him to the springs so he could thaw his bones. It'd be nice. Calming. Getting to submerge into water was always calming.

Taking a seat in one of the chairs Jaskier closed his eyes and simply focused on finding all the familiar grooves and imperfections of the beads. There was no reason to think of anything else. He needed to let go of the scary what-ifs. They hadn't happened. Lil' Bleater was safe and Eskel wouldn't be furious with him. Wouldn't hate him. No one had suddenly appeared and approached him. Hurt him. He just needed to focus on the beads, not on anything else.

"Come in," Jaskier said quietly, answering Geralt's knocking. Before Geralt had time to say anything, he continued, "Would you mind going to the hot springs with me?"

"Sure." Geralt nodded. "Everything alright?"

"Mmhmm, just feeling cold. Ended up laying on snow for a bit."

"Why?" Geralt asked, looking confused.

"Lil' Bleater pinned me down. She's heavier than she looks," Jaskier said, grabbing a change of clothes. "She escaped the stable when I stepped out with Roach."

Jaskier didn't like the way his voice broke at the confession.

"You managed to take Roach outside?" Geralt asked, sounding happy.

"Yeah," Jaskier said, walking next to Geralt as they made their way to the lower levels. "I _had to_ catch Lil' Bleater so there wasn't much choice. I don't– I don't know what I would have done if she had run away."

"Jaskier, she escapes all the time. Don't worry about it," Geralt said.

"But–"

"You have no idea how many times she has barrelled past me. It's really not a big deal if she makes her way outside or out of eyesight. She always comes back."

It didn't feel right. At all. But Jaskier didn't want to press the issue. Geralt would just reiterate his words and they rang false.

It got easier to quiet his thoughts as Jaskier let himself submerge into the hot water. Things always were more peaceful underwater. Easier to bear and ignore, the world weightless and muffled. It was a shame he always had to eventually come up for air. It was a shame Geralt always tensed when he dived for what he deemed to be too long. It was fucking terrible knowing how badly he had wounded Geralt all those months ago.

"Did you have good time training?" Jaskier asked to distract himself. Mulling over what could have been wouldn't do any good.

"Hmmm."

"Thank you for the very detailed description, Geralt," Jaskier teased, aiming for normality and doing his best to wash his legs despite wearing loose pants. It was annoying. It was routine.

"It was fine," Geralt said.

Jaskier could swear there was a smile in his tone.

"That's nice. Fine is fine. Better than not fine."

"What?"

"Nothing, love. Just spewing words. One of us has to do it."

"Hnh."

"See? I have to try to balance you whenever I can."

Jaskier smiled at the amused huff Geralt gave.

"You're feeling fine too, aren't you?" Geralt asked.

"Fine is a nice word, far better than drab." Jaskier nodded despite the fact that it wouldn't be seen, not with the way Geralt was keeping his back to him.

"You aren't making any sense."

"Sense is overrated." And most of it had left him anyway.

"Any plans for today?" Geralt asked, ignoring him.

"No, not really," Jaskier mused. "Although… I think I'd like to take a look at a bathtub. It's been a while."

"If you want to," Geralt said seriously, light-heartedness gone.

"I do but I think I need to take it even slower," Jaskier confessed. It felt like a defeat. "Might be better if I'm not even in the same room necessarily. I could stare at one from the doorway. It's silly, I know."

"It's not silly," Geralt said firmly. "Take it as slow as you need to. I'll draw you a picture of one if needed."

"Please don't! It'd be atrocious," Jaskier said.

"You've never seen a picture I've drawn," Geralt pointed out.

"Because I've never seen you draw."

"Hmmm."

Hell, now he really wanted to see a drawing made by Geralt. Maybe he did have a hidden talent.

"Geralt, can you actually draw?"

"Hmmm."

"Tell me."

"Hmmm."

"Fine, be that way!" Jaskier huffed with fake affront and got out of the spring.

It felt amazing not to have his hair plastering itself onto his forehead.

"I'll just change clothes and we could walk to the hallway before interacting with the bathtub?" Jaskier suggested.

"Sure," Geralt said as he stepped into the bathing area to give Jaskier complete privacy, waiting for him to finish.

It didn't take long.

Jaskier wished even this way of seeing a bathtub wasn't making him nervous. A wish in vain but he had the control over the situation. He had. He'd just have to remember it. Remember that he could look at one for literally a second before stepping away if he so decided. No one would force him to do anything.

It felt like the minute Geralt spent shifting the folding screens behind a closed door took a lifetime.

"Hand?" Jaskier requested, looking at Geralt instead of the now open door. He got a nod.

"I can do this. Just look, not even enter. Right?" Jaskier asked, voice tight and desperate for encouragement.

"Yes, Jaskier," Geralt said, sounding far too confident about it.

It took only a little shuffling for Jaskier to get into a position he could see inside the bathing area, to see the tub properly.

Immediately, cold shivers ran down Jaskier's spine. He wanted to escape. He was staring at danger.

It was a fucking bathtub.

"It's just a fucking bathtub," Jaskier mumbled faintly, voicing his thought. "Why the– Why the fuck am I still so terrified?"

"It's a reminder of everything that happened," Geralt said.

"I don't want to get closer," Jaskier whispered, speaking starting to get harder as holding tears back took more and more concentration.

"You don't have to. Jaskier, do you understand? You're in control here, can decide what you want to do," Geralt said seriously. "Everything is up to you and what you want."

"Mmhmm."

"Jaskier, what do you want to do?"

It was kind of Geralt to ask. It wasn't necessary, he'd do as Geralt told him to. But it had been a question. A simple one. Maybe it was okay to answer truthfully.

"Leave. I want to leave," Jaskier choked out, grip on Geralt's hand tightening.

"Let's leave right now then," Geralt said, gently tugging to make Jaskier follow.

The walk back to their room took both far longer yet was far quicker than normally. It was strange but then again, everything was a bit strange. Had been for a long time.

"Jaskier?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Are you alright?"

"I… No. Probably not. But feeling the best so far out of the aftermath of the attempts," Jaskier mumbled, curling on top of the covers on the bed. "Mind joining me?"

He didn't want to feel alone.

"Of course."

He didn't feel alone as Geralt carefully laid down onto his side, facing Jaskier.

"Can I hold your hands?" Jaskier asked, hating having to blink tears away. For a moment he had dared to hope he might get through this without crying.

In answer Geralt gently intertwined their fingers. His hands were so warm. So familiar. Almost like a piece of home. Not surprising. Geralt was his home. Had been for a long, long time. Longer than Jaskier had been even aware of it, having realized the feeling only looking back. He didn't know when it had happened. He didn't care. All he cared about was that Geralt was allowing it, allowing him to be a part of his life, allowing him to get behind all the walls, allowing him into his heart.

"Thank you," Jaskier breathed, moving their hands to press his forehead against them after a quick check.

"Hmmm."

Jaskier was very sure Geralt had no idea what he was thanking him for.

"This is… You are…" Jaskier tried before sighing and falling silent. There would be time for that when he was feeling a little better again. When his heart wasn't racing anymore and breathing wasn't something he had to focus on.

"It's okay, Jaskier. You're safe. Everything is fine," Geralt said calmly.

"I know." He really did. "Just… Even that was a lot. Harder than I thought. You'd think not being in the same room would make sure I wouldn't get fucking terrified. But no. Of course my faulty brain has to react like that."

"Jaskier, stop. You're doing really well. Better than ever before. You're not having a panic attack or crying uncontrollably," Geralt said, squeezing Jaskier's hands for barely a second. "This is huge progress."

"Mmmm… I guess." Jaskier nodded. "Right now it feels more like a failure since I'm scared. Maybe I'll feel differently later."

"I'm sure you will," Geralt said.

"Geralt, could you hold me?" Jaskier requested, suddenly aching for physical contact. "Even for a short while."

"I'd like that," Geralt said, letting go of Jaskier's hands only so he could shift and open his arms invitingly.

It was all the prompting Jaskier needed to scoot himself close enough to press his chest against Geralt's yet curling his legs slightly to create a little space. Plastering himself completely against Geralt felt wrong. Something he didn't want. So he wouldn't. Geralt wouldn't demand it either.

"Thank you for being here," Jaskier mumbled, closing his eyes and trying to focus on the warmth of Geralt.

No need to think about anything else.

"It's where I want to be," Geralt said, voice strangled.

Geralt had gotten so much better at opening up. It made Jaskier's heart swell with love.

"I love you," Jaskier said, finally starting to relax again. He was safe and loved, far from harm.

"Hmmm."

Such a loving hum.

Geralt could feel Jaskier's tense muscles relax and breathing smooth out as minutes passed by until the bard was sleeping in his arms.

Sleeping.

While being held.

Geralt was terrified to move and wake Jaskier up, afraid his racing heart would be enough to disturb Jaskier and break the moment. He despised the thought. He wanted this to last. There was no telling when it'd happen again or even if it would.

Fuck but he loved that man more than should be possible.

Closing his eyes Geralt focused on the feeling of having Jaskier close, smelling the familiar mildly scented chamomile soap and something that was so inherently Jaskier. Honey and green spring, reminding him of sunny days.

It was so peaceful like this.

Existing together.

Enjoying quiet intimacy.

Truthfully, it was all he needed. Just being together. It was still so hard to believe Jaskier had chosen him out of everyone long before all this. There were so many people who were far more deserving of Jaskier's love than him and it wasn't as if Jaskier had had trouble finding company. He was sought after. Yet here Jaskier was, contently sleeping in his arms and showing him a staggering amount of trust. Letting himself be completely vulnerable, lowering every guard and wall.

Without noticing, Geralt too drifted to sleep.

"Geralt, Geralt, let go," Jaskier's high and distressed voice woke Geralt up. "Let me go."

"Fuck," Geralt cursed, immediately opening his arms from the tight embrace. Not wasting a second Jaskier rolled off the bed and hurried to stand by the window, hugging himself.

"I'm okay," Jaskier said, sounding shaken before Geralt could even open his mouth. "Just… Not prepared. Didn't expect that."

"Shit, I didn't mean to fall asleep. I'm sorry, Jaskier," Geralt said, wanting to kick himself. Just because he had felt warm and content didn't mean he should have allowed himself to do so.

"There's nothing to forgive." Jaskier said. "You were asleep and let me go the second I requested it. It's okay."

It didn't feel okay. Especially since Jaskier was still hugging himself protectively, not making a single move to decrease the distance between them. But Jaskier was speaking and interacting normally, not retreating into his own head.

"Jaskier–"

"I'm _fine_. We just probably should talk about what to do if I fall asleep while cuddling," Jaskier said. "I got surprised. I'm not very good with surprises at the moment."

"Because you can't control those?" Geralt guessed.

"Yeah, probably. Control issues and all," Jaskier agreed. After a few seconds to gather himself Jaskier continued, "I really, really hate asking this of you but… Could you please stay awake if I fall asleep in your arms? Let go when I show signs of waking up if you haven't done so earlier? Or nudge me before I manage to drift off in the first place. For now. I'm sorry. Really. I am. I'm sorry for asking for that."

"Jaskier, it's alright. I understand you not wanting to wake up to being held or touched," Geralt said.

"Thank you," Jaskier said, sounding subdued. "I'm afraid I might start panicking if I wake up disoriented and find myself being held."

"I understand," Geralt repeated.

"I'd love to be able to sleep together like that with you. It's cozy and I know you wouldn't –don't– take it as an invitation for anything more," Jaskier said, grabbing his beads with one hand. "I just need a clear head to be able to handle being touched or, well, clear enough to be able to tell you it's okay. I'm afraid how I feel might change while I'm asleep. That I couldn't handle it waking up and would make you feel all shitty."

"I don't feel shitty about you being touch-repulsed some of the time," Geralt protested.

"Yes, you do but that's not my point," Jaskier said, finally looking at Geralt briefly. "I meant that you'd start beating yourself up if I woke up in an embrace and had a panic attack over it. You'd think it's your fault. Which it wouldn't be."

Geralt wanted to deny that he'd feel guilty.

He couldn't.

"Hnn."

"As long as I won't wake up like that it's all good. I'd absolutely love to, believe me. I just can't, not yet," Jaskier said.

"I'll make sure it won't happen again," Geralt promised.

"Geralt, I really do hope that won't be an arrangement lasting forever," Jaskier said quietly.

"No deadlines, remember?"

"Mmhmm."

Apparently the reminder had been needed.

"Take your time. I don't care whether it'll take a day or a decade. I don't care if today ends up being the only time," Geralt said seriously. The thought of never having Jaskier waking up in his arms feeling good and rested caused a painful pang shoot through Geralt's heart. Such a simple wish yet it might not come true. The words were still sincere.

"Thank you."

"Hmmm."

Geralt wanted to walk to Jaskier. He didn't. Just watched as Jaskier started to slowly relax again, his tense posture softening and heartbeat quieting from its hammering.

"Geralt, can we go do something?" Jaskier asked.

"Do what?"

"I don't know. Something, anything."

"Gwent?" Geralt suggested. It had been a while since the last time.

"Sounds good." Jaskier nodded.

It was hard to focus on the card game. Jaskier couldn't help the way his mind kept wandering, thoughts altering between too many and nothing at all. Jaskier knew he knew the game perfectly well. He kept forgetting the rules. It was frustrating and even more distracting.

With a carefully measured breath Jaskier placed his cards on the table to rub his face.

"We can stop if you want to," Geralt said, frowning slightly.

"Let's at least finish this round," Jaskier said, picking the cards up again. That way he wouldn't be wasting Geralt's time even worse than he already was with his half-hearted attempts to play. He just couldn't concentrate. At all.

It was his turn.

The cards didn't make any sense.

"That's an illegal move," Geralt said. "Are you sure you don't want to cut this round short?"

"I… Yeah. I guess," Jaskier muttered, stacking his cards back into a deck. "Sorry."

That done he crossed his forearm onto the table and laid his head down on them. The less than pleasant awakening seemed to have negated what help the rest might otherwise have been. It should have been lovely. It really should. Jaskier couldn't even count how many times he had dreamed of it, waking up in Geralt's arms. He should have loved it finally happening.

Instead his skin was crawling all over and small bolts of lightning were running through his nerves once in a while.

"Jaskier? Is something wrong?"

Vesemir's voice made Jaskier look up. He hadn't heard the old Witcher approaching them.

"...No. Not really," Jaskier sighed. It really wasn't anything tangible, just a heavy feeling in his chest.

"Hmmm," Vesemir hummed, the doubtful cadence familiar.

"I just can't concentrate," Jaskier said, not knowing how else to explain.

"Well, if you do want to talk about something, don't hesitate to find me," Vesemir said. "But I'll continue my way to the kitchen now. Dinner won't make itself."

"Thanks." It did sound like a sincere offer.

"Jaskier, are you really okay?" Geralt asked as Vesemir walked away.

"Yes," Jaskier huffed, burying his face in his arms again. Granted, it probably didn't really back up his words. He was quite sure Geralt was keeping himself from grinding his teeth so he added, "This really is a concentration issue. Sorry, I know it's irritating when I get like this."

"Don't apologize," Geralt grunted, repeating the words for the uncountable time. "Can you think of something that might help?"

"Burying myself into a snowdrift and not coming out until the spring melts it."

"Not an option."

"In that case I have nothing."

"We could go for a walk."

"That… sounds good actually," Jaskier said, perking up slightly. It really did seem doable.

"Great. Let's go then," Geralt said, getting up.

Soon enough they were walking through the keep's grounds in lantern light, following the paths that were regularly shoveled. Jaskier still felt like diving into a snowdrift and disappearing for the rest of the winter. But since it apparently wasn't allowed…

"Geralt, have you ever made snow fairies?"

"What?"

"You know, snow fairies," Jaskier said. At Geralt's blank look Jaskier shook his head. "You don't know, do you? You poor deprived man."

An annoyed frown joined Geralt's blank look.

"Let me show you," Jaskier said, stepping into the undisturbed snow and flopping down onto his back despite the way he sank a bit.

"You just move your legs and arms back and forth," Jaskier explained, fake serious and doing exactly that.

"I know how to make snow figures," Geralt said, watching Jaskier. "We just never called them snow fairies."

"I won't believe you until you prove you can create them," Jaskier said.

After a short staredown Geralt sighed and joined Jaskier in the snow after placing their lantern down, starting to create a shape of his own.

"Congratulations, Geralt. It looks like you do know how to do this," Jaskier said, laying still, limbs akimbo.

"Of course I do. Did you think we never played as children?" Geralt grumbled.

"I hoped you did," Jaskier said quietly.

"Ah."

"I'm glad you had the chance to also be children –sometimes at least– despite everything."

"Hmmm."

"You know, I didn't have many playmates as a child. They were so thoroughly vetted," Jaskier said, staring at the cloudy and dark sky.

"That so?"

"Yeah."

Jaskier carefully got to his feet, walking to Geralt's other side to make a second snow fairy.

"You too have to make a second one, Geralt. One should never create only one, they need to have friends," Jaskier said. "And no before you even ask, me doing two doesn't count to yours. It'd still be the odd one out."

"Seriously?" Geralt huffed, getting up to do as told.

It was nice to lay in the snow next to Geralt.

Peaceful.

"Feeling better?" Geralt asked, looking at Jaskier.

"I am,"Jaskier said, glad to be telling the truth. "The cold is grounding and doing snow fairies doesn't require any concentration."

"Hmmm." A pleased hum.

They had been laying in silence for a while when the crunching of snow alerted Jaskier of someone approaching.

"Can I join?" Eskel asked, smiling down at them.

"Please do," Jaskier agreed, happy to have more Witchers acting silly with him. "I trust you know how to make snow fairies."

"You trust Eskel to know but explained them to me as if I was a child?" Geralt said, sounding offended.

"Eskel is a sensible man," Jaskier said.

"Fairies, huh? We never called them that," Eskel said, moving to make another as prompted. "Just figures."

"So uncreative," Jaskier said.

"Blame the previous generations. That's the name we were told of."

"Still uncreative but you're forgiven."

The snow was crunching again.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Lambert asked, pointing a shovel at them.

"Snow fairies," Jaskier and Eskel said in unison.

Good, Eskel at least had accepted the correct term. Jaskier was sure Geralt would keep hanging on to the bland one he had been told. Not that it really mattered.

"Okay then. Have fun being idiots," Lambert said, about to turn away.

"Lambert, join us," Eskel commanded.

"Absolutely not."

"You will," Geralt said.

"I won't. You can be children without me," Lambert said, staring at them.

"We all know you'll feel excluded if you walk away now," Eskel said. "Just give in and come here."

"Fuck you, Eskel," Lambert spat, crossing his arms defiantly.

"There's three of us and one of you," Geralt pointed out casually.

Two of them, Jaskier corrected in his mind. It wasn't as if he would be taking part if a tussle broke out between the Witchers.

"Fuck you too, Geralt."

"Come here already. I know you want to," Eskel smiled, beckoning Lambert. "And it'd make Jaskier happy."

Jaskier wasn't sure how to feel about being used as a bargaining chip. However, it seemed to work since Lambert gave an irritated grumble but did join them. And Jaskier couldn't deny starting to smile as Lambert made a snow fairy, exuding far more reluctance than could be genuine. Eskel seemed to have been right about Lambert actually wanting to join them despite the protesting.

Doing this with Geralt had been peaceful, having Eskel and Lambert join them made it fun. A little easier to shut out the unpleasant feelings and thoughts that had been plaguing him since waking up from his nap.

The snow was crunching yet again.

"Dinner is ready," Vesemir said, tilting his head as he observed them.

"Oh, thank you," Jaskier said. He was just about to get up when Vesemir continued.

"But it will keep for a while," Vesemir said, stepping into the snow to join them.

If Eskel and Lambert joining them had made Jaskier happy, having even Vesemir joining in made him absolutely delighted. Somehow it –making snow fairies with everyone– made it truly feel as if Kaer Morhen was his home too. Jaskier hoped it was allowed, thinking that he might belong here with the others despite everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They all deserve to play in the snow!


	18. Chapter 18

Jaskier scowled at the gently steaming water in front of him. It had been such a long time since he had tried to do this.

With almost steady hands Jaskier started to unbutton his thick doublet and shrugged it off.

He couldn't help the way he ended up staring at the closed door in apprehension for a ridiculously long time before he finally managed to tug his chemise out of his waistband and shed it. He wasn't sure if the shiver running down his spine was caused by the change in temperature against his torso or the rising anxiety.

The washcloth felt strangely abrasive against his skin.

It was a good feeling.

Made it feel like it'd actually do something about the invisible stains that refused to leave for long, always returning eventually. Sometimes immediately, sometimes after a day or two. Things were easier here thanks to the hot springs with the way he could easily stay clean. Physically at least.

It helped.

Jaskier wasn't looking forward to leaving them behind come spring but hopefully things would be different by then. Easier. Steadier. Closer to normal.

It was nice to feel hopeful it'd happen.

That he really might be able to recover.

Fragile hope but still hope.

Jaskier trailed a hand along his naked forearms. It didn't make him want to shed his skin. Neither did touching his shoulders or clavicles.

Resting a hand on his bare chest caused his breath to hitch. He didn't feel Marden's hands start trailing up toward it starting from his navel as if familiarizing his shape.

He was still alright.

Just a bit scared.

Jaskier didn't like the way he could have counted his ribs without trying. It was wrong. He wanted fat and muscle to cover them. As it should be. You weren't supposed to feel them without pressing down. It was strange, sincerely wanting to gain weight. It was foreign. Everything about himself felt foreign. As if he was habitating someone else's body. As if his brain had been changed. It probably had in some manner.

His worldview had.

Jaskier wanted to return to how he had been. He knew it was an impossible wish. Had finally accepted there was no going back.

Touching his upper back was alright after scrubbing it vigorously.

It didn't take long for his trousers to get in the way. Damned high waisted cut.

Hands shaking and eyes burning Jaskier slowly started to open them. He could do this. Could get fully naked. He hadn't been able to do it in months. Maybe it had been long enough.

It had to be. It _had to_.

The room was empty.

No one could see him.

Everyone would be still training for over an hour.

Not even Geralt would be knocking on the door.

It was safe.

It was safe.

It was safe.

No one was looking at him, evaluating him.

No one was planning on taking him forcefully.

Letting their eyes roam, making him feel like he was already being violated.

He was safe.

At Kaer Morhen.

With only Geralt and his family.

No strangers.

Only people he could trust.

He was safe.

Jaskier couldn't stop the tears falling as he slowly stepped out of his trousers.

He really didn't know if he'd be able to take his underwear off too.

He should.

Wouldn't have to touch his skin afterward if he didn't want to.

No one would touch him.

No one.

The door was still closed.

No one was entering.

It was safe.

Jaskier's breathing was getting unsteady as he hooked his fingers under the waistband. He didn't know if he wanted to do this. He should. Had decided to do it. It had been months. He was being ridiculous. It shouldn't matter that he hadn't put a shirt back on. It shouldn't.

Jaskier wondered if his trembling was actually starting to lessen as he carefully started removing the last piece of clothing. Each inch felt easier. He wasn't as terrified as before. The fear was receding. He wasn't even crying anymore. It was somehow different from the content calm of the past few days.

It didn't feel much like anything to finish taking them off.

Jaskier stood still for a moment, just staring dispassionately at the heap of clothes on the floor before slowly re-dressing. It didn't make him feel any different. He simply was. Maybe. Jaskier wasn't exactly sure of the fact. Perhaps he didn't actually exist, was simply a ghost floating through the world and howling its pain to torment the living. It was no wonder Witchers took care of wraiths. There were Witchers here. Jaskier knew they wouldn't lift their silver swords against him.

Snowflakes started to dance outside.

The others would probably return soon, done for the day. It didn't matter. He wasn't really here after all. Jaskier wasn't sure where he was but he doubted the fingers tracing patterns on the polished wood of the desk were his. It didn't really matter. It just was.

There was the familiar knocking and a pause and a request to enter when Jaskier didn't answer before Geralt stepped in.

"Hello," Jaskier said, using someone else's tongue.

Everything was soft at the edges.

"Jaskier, is everything alright?" Geralt asked, a frown forming.

"Sure." Nothing hurt so it had to be true.

Geralt was looking at the wash basin.

Jaskier breezed by him to curl on the bed. It was soft. Like the edges of reality.

"Really?" Geralt sounded so doubtful.

"Mmhmm."

"What did you do while I was training?" Geralt asked. He was staring at him now.

Jaskier didn't know why Geralt looked so concerned. He was fine. For once the world was being kind to him.

"Washed." Partly.

"Hmmm." Apparently it was Geralt's turn to hum.

"Let's go get lunch," Geralt said. Still staring. Still frowning. Still sounding worried.

"Sure." If Geralt was hungry they should.

It was strange to find out that he had legs when he stood up and made his way to the kitchen, following Geralt. Strange how the walk was finished in a blink of an eye.

The others were there, sitting at the table eating.

Jaskier gave a nod at the greetings and sat down as far as he could from Vesemir. It was considerate of the old Witcher to scoot over to the other end of the bench, giving him more space.

"You forgot to grab food." Geralt practically slammed a bowl in front of Jaskier, making him jolt.

For a brief moment Jaskier wondered if something was actually wrong.

It didn't seem important.

"Eat," Geralt growled, taking a seat between him and Vesemir.

Jaskier lifted the spoon. He wasn't sure about the eating part. Why waste food when he didn't need it, wasn't even real.

He could see everyone frowning at him now.

Geralt felt like grabbing Jaskier and shaking him.

There was something wrong. He wished he could pinpoint what exactly was the underlying problem. It wasn't as if it was new for Jaskier to sometimes barely speak but this felt more despite the way Jaskier was actually interacting with him. Extremely stilted and one-sided conversations but still proving to be aware of his surroundings.

The loud sound of Vesemir suddenly clapping his hands drew everyone's attention.

"Jaskier, where are you currently?" Vesemir asked seriously.

Shit. Was Jaskier dissociating? Just in a way that didn't leave him completely unresponsive?

"Kaer Morhen…" Jaskier said quietly.

"Where exactly?" Vesemir prompted.

At that Jaskier paused, looking around with a slight frown.

"...The kitchen?"

"Good. Who is with us?"

"Geralt. Eskel and Lambert," Jaskier said, tone still flat.

"And who am I?"

"Vesemir."

"What are we doing?"

"...Eating lunch."

"That's right. Can you describe to me how the beads feel underneath your fingers?"

Geralt realized Jaskier hadn't fidgeted with them at all since he had returned. A rarity. Even before everything Jaskier had often unconsciously kept his fingers busy, be it by playing with his ring or drumming a table.

"There's… imperfections in the wood despite the sanding down and paint. The brass ones are cool and smooth," Jaskier said, looking like it took huge amounts of concentration to figure it out. The longer, actual, sentences were reassuring.

Maybe he was coming back to himself.

"What does the food smell like?" Vesemir asked, still just as serious.

Jaskier took a deep breath through his nose as prompted. "I don't know. Potato-y? Meaty? Some herbs."

Right. It wasn't as if Jaskier could pinpoint each ingredient in the soup by smelling it.

"I… Hi," Jaskier said, sounding disoriented and looking around.

"Back with us again?" Vesemir asked, expression relaxing.

"Yeah. I think so," Jaskier said, rubbing his face.

Geralt felt guilty how relieved he was about Vesemir having taken charge of the situation. That he hadn't needed to be the one guiding Jaskier.

"I'm sorry," Jaskier mumbled, lowering his eyes and visibly wilting.

"There's nothing to apologize for," Vesemir said sternly.

"Listen to Vesemir," Geralt said. "You're not at fault."

"Mmhmm."

It was hard to stifle a sight at the disbelieving hum.

"Try to eat," Geralt said instead. Pressing the issue right now wouldn't lead to anything productive or helpful.

Jaskier did pick up his spoon, starting to stir the soup looking disinterested.

"Eat," Geralt repeated with more force.

Take care of yourself. Please.

"Jaskier, do you know what triggered you?" Eskel asked hesitantly, clearly not sure if it was his place to do so.

"...Pushed myself too far," Jaskier said quietly, finally eating the first spoonful.

"Ah."

It was good Jaskier hadn't just ignored the question, had actually given an honest if vague answer. Geralt was determined to try to get specifics once they were alone. The wash basin was a clear clue.

"Loud sounds really work then? As long as it's not shouting?" Lambert asked, looking intensely at Jaskier.

"Yeah." Jaskier nodded. "I don't know why but it does."

Another slow spoonful.

Geralt was starting to believe Jaskier would actually continue eating. For a while longer at least. It was such a relief that Jaskier was doing it more regularly and had an easier time with it in general. It might not really show yet, but not losing more weight was such an important achievement in itself. Hopefully he'd actually start gaining it at some point.

Geralt wondered if Jaskier was constantly cold due to how thin he was.

"Thank you, Vesemir," Jaskier said. "It's difficult for me to realize something is wrong when that happens. Can't often even try to shrug it off by myself because of it."

"Of course I helped, will help," Vesemir said. "I'm not going to turn away and ignore or scorn your needs, Jaskier."

"Thank you."

The small serving of the soup was half gone now. Geralt couldn't stop keeping track of it.

Eventually Jaskier did give up but since he had managed to almost finish Geralt didn't feel a need to push him. He might not be pleased but Jaskier had tried his best. It was enough right now. He'd just chuck Jaskier something to snack on later.

"Geralt, can we go upstairs?" Jaskier asked, looking at him with tired eyes.

"Yeah. Let's go," Geralt said, getting up and leaving his empty bowl for someone else to take care of.

"Bye," Jaskier said subdued and followed him.

Geralt felt a thrill run through him despite the situation as they settled down on the bed, Jaskier requesting to be held. Being allowed to do so had turned into a common thing yet it still kept taking his breath away. It was incredible someone –let along _Jaskier_ – wanted to be so close to him. To feel safe in his arms.

"What happened?" Geralt asked once they had been laying in silence for a while.

"It's stupid. And embarrassing," Jaskier muttered, hiding his face against Geralt's shirt.

"It's not."

"You don't even know what happened."

"Then tell me."

"I just… I tried to get naked," Jaskier said. Geralt could feel Jaskier's cheeks flushing. "It's so pathetic I can't do that. That I constantly have to wear _something_ to cover myself."

"It's not pathetic," Geralt said seriously. "It's not surprising you have trouble with it after what Marden did and made you do. I wish there was something I could do to help."

"No!" Jaskier exclaimed, rolling out of Geralt's arms. "Don't– You can't–!"

"Jaskier, calm down. I said 'wish' not 'will'," Geralt said. "I'm not going to get involved in that. You don't want me to and there's nothing I could even offer."

It hurt, not being able to help. There simply wasn't a way for him to do anything. At least Jaskier knew he could say no to him despite it being extremely hard to do the same to others. Jaskier did sometimes slip into just going along whatever he said but it was getting rarer and Jaskier better at checking what he meant when uncertain.

"Ah, yes. You did. Sorry I kind of stopped listening," Jaskier said, crawling closer but not continuing the cuddle. "But yeah, I took my clothes off and apparently my mind decided to go on a holiday."

"Did you realize at any point you were taking it too far?" Geralt asked.

"..."

"You did, didn't you?" Geralt sighed tiredly. Damned reckless bard ignoring his own limits even after all this time.

"...Yeah."

"Jaskier, why do you keep doing that? Pushing yourself past what you know you can handle?" Geralt asked. "It only hurts you."

And everyone else around you.

"I need to test myself. See how far I can go. I don't want to plateau," Jaskier said quietly. "That'd hurt me even worse, not being able to regain control of my life."

So Jaskier did actively know some of the things he did would hurt him. Geralt felt like punching something.

"Jaskier, you need to stop harming yourself," Geralt said, sitting up. "I've promised to help you make sure you won't so listen to me."

"What? I'm not self-harming," Jaskier said, also sitting up and sounding genuinely confused. "I haven't even been biting my nails."

"You are. Just not physically," Geralt said gravely.

"I don't understand."

"You won't get better at anything if you push yourself until you break something. You need to figure out where the line between challenging and hurting yourself is." That's what Vesemir always told them when they got overzealous with training. It should be applicable to this too.

"I _need to_ push myself," Jaskier insisted, frowning.

"Not until you break!" Geralt snapped heatedly.

"...I just…" Jaskier mumbled, slightly curling into himself and looking down.

Geralt had to take a few deep breaths to make sure he wouldn't shout. He just wanted Jaskier to _stop doing_ such things to himself.

"Don't hurt yourself, Jaskier. I can't stand seeing it," Geralt said.

"I'm sorry," Jaskier said in a small voice, starting to fidget with his beads.

"Don't apologize, just stop doing so."

"Mmhmm."

Shit. Jaskier was starting to close him out.

He needed a diversion.

Looking around, Geralt's eyes landed on the wash basin. "Jaskier, do you want me to put the basin away?"

"Hmmm?" Jaskier looked up at him.

"The wash basin. You left it on the table," Geralt said, gesturing at it.

"Oh. If you want to. I would have taken care of it later."

Full sentences. Good.

"It's fine," Geralt said, getting up. Doing something instead of sitting sounded good in general. He needed a way to focus the frustration away from his tone and words. He didn't actually want to yell at Jaskier despite feeling like it. Very much so.

Jaskier wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to make Geralt understand that he wasn't purposefully hurting himself, that he just had to keep pushing himself. Hard. He couldn't really explain it to himself either. He just _had to_.

Maybe he should let the conversation end here.

"Do you know if Eskel has any plans?" Jaskier asked, watching Geralt chuck the dirty water out of the window.

"Not that I know of. Why?"

"I was wondering if he'd like to spend some time with me while you're with Roach."

There was knitting to be done if he wanted to finish in time for solstice, especially since he was planning on making Geralt also a pair of black mittens he actually might use without pestering. It was about time to think about the gifts for the others too.

"I can help you locate him," Geralt offered, looking pleased.

"Thanks. I need a little more time to unwind before asking him though. It probably wouldn't be the best of ideas to go socialize quite yet," Jaskier said, going to sit cross-legged on the bed after retrieving his songbook.

Not that he could focus on working.

Jaskier was able to bear the uncooperative words for slightly over an hour before he sighed in defeat.

At least Eskel was easy to find with Geralt's help.

"Eskel? Are you busy?" Jaskier asked, making Eskel turn toward him as Geralt continued on his way to the stable.

"Not particularly. Do you need something?" Eskel said.

"No, I was just wondering if you could help me with knitting," Jaskier said, hoping he wasn't a bother.

"Sure. Let's go get the supplies," Eskel said, starting to head toward his room. "Does going to the library again sound good?"

"Yeah. Thanks for taking the time for this," Jaskier agreed, waiting by Eskel's door. He still didn't feel comfortable at all about the idea of entering. Despite feeling safe with Eskel, the thought of going into his bedroom was scary. Threatening. Wrong.

"I enjoy knitting with you," Eskel said as they made their way to the library.

"I feel the same," Jaskier agreed, getting a smile in return.

"I was thinking about making also black mittens for Geralt so he'd have something he would actually use. If they end up resembling mittens, that is," Jaskier said, lifting his almost finished hat from the yarn basket. "It'd be nice to be able to give him a useful solstice gift."

"Sounds like a plan." Eskel nodded, continuing what he had explained would eventually turn into a shirt. "Have you decided what to give Lambert and Vesemir?"

"I was thinking about writing several old poems I've learned into a notebook to give to Vesemir. He has been enjoying the older songs I've sang," Jaskier mused. "Lambert… To be honest, I have no idea."

"Yeah, Lambert can be hard to read when you're not very familiar with him," Eskel said. "Want to bounce ideas?"

"I'd like that," Jaskier said. "Most things that have crossed my mind are about weapons and I have absolutely no knowledge how to create or customize them. It'd probably take too much time too."

"What about your other ideas?"

"He likes cooking, right? Maybe I could try to carve him a bowl and a spoon. Or I could try making soap…" Jaskier said, trying to retrieve a dropped stitch with Eskel's help. "The problem is that I honestly don't know how to do almost anything crafty. I've never had a reason to learn. Give me an instrument and I'll either know how to play it or soon enough figure out the basics. But hand me tallow and string and I have no idea how to make a candle."

"Well, I can't play any instrument. Don't play yourself down just because you have different skillsets. You didn't grow up in a remote fortress having to learn how to be self-sufficient, did you?" Eskel said, frowning.

"The opposite, to be honest. I was very heavily discouraged from getting my hands dirty. Apparently it would have been _'below my station',_ " Jaskier grumbled, unable to keep from mimicking his father.

"Hmmm."

"Makes me pretty useless here, though," Jaskier said, keeping his eyes on the needles to avoid catching even a glimpse of Eskel's expression.

"You're not useless," Eskel said firmly.

"Thanks."

Eskel really was too kind not to admit the truth. Unnecessary as that was.

"Jaskier, I'm serious. Not knowing how to do something doesn't make you useless. Nor does not having enough energy to putter around the whole day," Eskel said. "And if there's something you'd like to learn, we're perfectly happy to teach you."

"Thank you," Jaskier said with more sincerity.

"I'm only telling the truth."

"Mmhmm. It's just… It's just difficult to see, to believe. I used to be capable of so much more," Jaskier mumbled, chest heavy. "It's hard to accept the new limitations I have."

"Big changes can be hard." Eskel nodded. "But you're doing much better than when you arrived. You've got this. I hope you too will be able to see it."

There Eskel went again with the encouragements.

"I'll try to," Jaskier said, not wanting to lie.

"Jaskier, that's all you have to do," Eskel said seriously. "Whatever happened, it changed your life. Of course it's normal to need time."

Jaskier could only shrug, lump in his throat making speaking impossible.

"Want to change the topic?"

"...Yeah…"

It was getting too much. Jaskier knew he'd have a physical reaction if Eskel kept talking about such things. Better to stop. Better for the lump to make its way back to his chest where it lived than constrict his throat.

"Lambert would probably enjoy getting soap as a gift. He's rather persnickety about his cooking equipment and utensils he uses on the Path," Eskel said.

"That's good to know. I don't want to give him something that would end up just gathering dust," Jaskier said, voice stronger.

"If you want help with making soap, Vesemir is the best out of us but I'd be happy to help too," Eskel said with a smile.

"Hmmm. I might ask Vesemir. Although, I do have another request too for him. I don't want to inconvenience him."

"You wouldn't. Just ask him, he's perfectly capable of declining if he wants to for some strange reason."

That was true. The others didn't share his troubles with saying no.

"Thanks, Eskel."

"Happy to help."

It was strange how sincere Eskel sounded. As if it really didn't bother him. Jaskier wished he could stop doubting such things, could silence the voice in his head whispering how he was just dragging everyone into his never-ending problems.

"You should start closing the cap unless you want to make it a long one," Eskel said, inspecting Jaskier's knitting. "Could you hand it over for a bit so I can show you how?"

"Sure. Just… Please don't touch me," Jaskier said, letting Eskel take hold of the cap and needles holding it together.

"Jaskier, I won't touch you. Not without you asking for it," Eskel said seriously, moving slowly and carefully. "It'd have to be an extremely dire situation for me to ignore your request."

"I know. Thank you for not promising to never do so."

It was amazing to truly believe Eskel.

"Just don't fall off a balcony or something and we don't have to worry about it." Eskel smiled, giving the cap back.

"Not planning to," Jaskier huffed good-naturedly before presenting the woolen cap to Eskel again after a while. "How do I secure the yarn so it won't unravel?"

Jaskier was well aware he was disproportionately proud of the garish and slightly lopsided woolen knit cap in his hands. It was an eyesore. It was perfect.

"A beaut, isn't it?" Jaskier beamed, holding it aloft for Eskel to see properly.

"A masterwork." Eskel nodded solemnly. "A true piece of art."

"I know, right!"

"Astounding. Groundbreaking. Awe inspiring."

"Oh, Eskel, now you're just flattering me," Jaskier said, still smiling widely. "Do continue."

"Exquisite. Amazing. Very good," Eskel said, his serious facade cracking. "I'm running out of synonyms."

"You forgot magnificent, superb, and spectacular," Jaskier said before starting to giggle, unable to keep it in anymore. Barely a second later Eskel joined in the laughter.

"It's so ugly…!" Jaskier gasped, tears of mirth in his eyes.

"Imagine– Imagine Geralt wearing it," Eskel forced out, voice breathless.

"He's going to hate it!"

"So much."

"I love it."

"Me too."

"Thank you for teaching me, Eskel," Jaskier said, starting to calm down. "I mean it."

"I like spending time with you, Jaskier. I've been having fun," Eskel said, sounding sincere.

"Me too." Jaskier nodded. "It's been a pretty rare feeling for some time now. I just want you to know that I really, really appreciate it. You."

"Oh." It seemed like it was Eskel's turn to be speechless. "...Thank you."

"You're a good man, Eskel. I'm glad I've had the chance to get to know you. I'm also so very happy to know that you've been –and will be– there for Geralt. He needs people like you in his life."

"I… Umm."

"I, uh… I know the next thing I'm going to say will sound really fucking weird. So… Feel free to ignore it," Jaskier said, staring at the ceiling and feeling himself blush. "I just reminded you not to touch me but… One day… Hopefully… I'd like to give you a hug. Shake your hand at least. Sorry. That is a strange thing to say. I just… Underneath all this I'm –was– actually really tactile, like to show that I care through contact. Not that I'd do that if you're uncomfortable even if I was capable of touching people. Other than Geralt. Sorry I'm rambling. Sorry. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Eskel said firmly. "I understand what that means for you and Jaskier, I'm honestly so flattered. Well, that's not the right word but… I appreciate the sentiment very much and would be happy to return the gesture if you ever want it. Just promise me you won't force yourself to do so."

"You don't find it weird?" Jaskier asked, surprised. He had been sure Eskel would brush it aside and pretend he hadn't said anything. Had been regretting letting his mouth run and cause Eskel to feel uncomfortable.

"I don't." Eskel shook his head. "Only weird thing is that you think so highly of _me_ out of all people."

"Oh, sweet Melitele. You're just as bad as Geralt!" Jaskier exclaimed. "Is it a requirement for Witchers to be self-deprecating?"

"Geralt is worse–"

"Eskel, I like you and there's nothing you can do about it," Jaskier huffed. "Nothing you _would_ do at least. You're not going to hurt Geralt and I'm pretty sure you never would do that to me either."

"Of course I won't," Eskel said, looking almost insulted by the mere idea.

"See? You're a perfectly good and kind person."

Jaskier hoped Eskel would believe him. Hoped he wouldn't notice that his hands had started shaking. This was getting too close to a confrontation. Despite the fact that it actually wasn't even remotely a confrontation. The stone in his chest was getting heavier. But he'd get through the conversation.

"Jaskier, are you alright?"

Or maybe he wouldn't.

"Yeah."

"Jaskier, I know that's a lie. Tell me what's wrong so I can try to help," Eskel said, concerned frown appearing on his brow.

"It's nothing. Just… let's shelve that for later…?" Jaskier mumbled, closing his eyes and focusing on breathing.

"Of course. You do know I'm not irritated or anything, right? Only baffled," Eskel said calmly. "I'm sorry if I made it seem like it."

"You didn't. This is honestly just a me-problem," Jaskier said, still carefully measuring his breaths.

"Can I do something?"

"Hand me one of the blankets?" Jaskier requested, sure Eskel was like Geralt in regards to feeling better when having a concrete way to help. It seemed to run in the family.

And it did feel nice to turn into a blanket cocoon.

"Could you keep the cap for now? I don't want Geralt to find it," Jaskier asked once he felt steady again.

"Of course." Eskel nodded.

"Thanks."

"Jaskier, are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah. That just… That just happens sometimes, things getting a bit too much without a warning," Jaskier said quietly, fidgeting with the blanket. "Sorry, I know it's annoying."

"It's not," Eskel stated before softening his tone. "It's way better for you to let us know things are getting hard than trying to hide it."

"So everyone keeps saying," Jaskier sighed.

"Maybe start listening to everyone," Eskel said.

"I'm trying to. I just don't want to be a burden, to alarm others each time something goes wrong in my head," Jaskier said, slumping deeper into his blanket cocoon.

"It's easier to give advice than act on it," Eskel said. "But believe me when I say that you're not dragging us down. Won't bother us by letting us know you need something or feel badly."

Jaskier wasn't sure if he could believe it yet. Maybe later. Right now it felt impossible to accept that the others didn't find his weakness irritating.

"Mmhmm."

He was so tired again.

Despite the spark of warmth caused by interacting with Eskel it felt like there was a pit inside of him just waiting to open and swallow him whole. It made him nervous. There were more than enough of those to try to step around. Jaskier wasn't sure if he could avoid even one more. It might disturb the precarious not-quite-equilibrium. He didn't want to find out what would happen if it toppled over like a house of cards.

"Do you want me to find Geralt?" Eskel asked, making Jaskier realize he had missed a couple of sentences.

It was very, very tempting.

"No… I'll just go back to our room and rest," Jaskier said, having to force the words out. "Geralt will show up eventually and he needs the distance."

Eskel looked too worried so Jaskier added, "I'll be fine."

It didn't seem to help much.

Jaskier wasn't particularly convinced either.

Maybe he should do as Eskel had said, tell he was feeling like something was wrong.

It didn't feel very important. The world was getting …soft… at the edges.

It wasn't right.

It wasn't.

He felt floaty –almost nice– but it wasn't right.

"...Eskel…" Jaskier mumbled, having to focus on each syllable. "...Something's… Wrong."

"Can you tell me more?" Eskel's voice sounded strangely far away.

Jaskier could only blink at Eskel. Which meant he had eyes. Weird. For a moment he had been sure he didn't. But if he had eyes, he also had to have a body. He couldn't be a pair of floating eyeballs, could he?

As if in slow motion, Jaskier could see Eskel clap his hands.

The sound was loud and clear. Concrete. Jaskier could almost feel it reverberate through him.

He really did have a body then.

"Jaskier, where are you?" Eskel asked seriously, almost a mirror image of Vesemir earlier in the day.

"...Kaer Morhen."

"Where there?"

"The… library."

"What were we doing here?"

"Knitting." It took Jaskier a moment to remember but he did feel confident he had gotten it right.

"Yeah, we were. What's around your shoulders?" Eskel asked, worried edge in his tone.

"A blanket. Hi, Eskel," Jaskier said, almost certain he was back in his body and had rejoined the world. "That was… Sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Thank you for letting me know, Jaskier," Eskel said, radiating honesty. "It would have been fucking bad if you had just walked away."

"I realized I was starting to feel like earlier today. Didn't want a repeat," Jaskier said, playing with his beads and finding it hard to look at Eskel. "Thank you for helping."

"Of course I did," Eskel said. "Do you usually have several episodes during the same day?"

"No, not usually. Sometimes. Not that often," Jaskier said, disturbed.

"Was it something I said? I don't want to repeat it," Eskel said.

"Eskel, you didn't do anything but help," Jaskier rebutted firmly. "I'm not sure what triggered it. I'm tired but that's not enough normally."

He really didn't know why he kept drifting and why a new void was starting to swallow him. There was no reason for it.

Except…

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck," Jaskier breathed, heart cold. "No, no, no."

"Jaskier?" Eskel asked, sounding even more concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, gods. It's– It will be– In few days… It's going to be exactly six months," Jaskier mumbled, tears burning in his eyes.

How could it have been _six months?_ _Half a year_ and he was still such a wreck?

He didn't want it to be true.

It was.

There was no stopping the days from passing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourself... We're about to have a couple of rough chapters...


End file.
